


Harry Potter and the House of Badgers

by Ryuushinmazi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adults being adults, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, BAMF Minerva McGonagall, BAMF Narcissa Malfoy, BAMF Pomona Sprout, BAMF Poppy Pomfrey, BAMF Weasely Twins, BAMF goblins, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Draco is not a TOTAL prat, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, He gets better, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Minor Molly Weasely Bashing, Multi, Other, She gets better tho, Smart Harry Potter, Smart Ron Weasley, Trans Harry Potter, Violence against Children, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuushinmazi/pseuds/Ryuushinmazi
Summary: A look at how things could have gone if people were human, adults were adults, and if Harry ended up in an actually supportive environment when he got to Hogwarts.Also, Harry becomes a girl, because fuck you JK.Pairings are eventual, I plan to take this clear through 7th year.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, others TBA
Comments: 296
Kudos: 542





	1. Privet Drive

**Author's Note:**

> SO. This is my re-write of the Potterverse that addresses what I feel are logical inaccuracies and Plot Train conveniences in the original Canon. I am also adding a bit of common sense realism to certain personalities and/or exploring depths of characterizations that may have been left out of the cannon, occasionally adding characters or circumstances I felt would make more sense or add depth to characters that we simply don’t see. Consider this Cannon!Divergent in a big way.
> 
> TW for Violence, child abuse, referenced abuse, mild alcoholism, sexim, and general twattery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated 9/10/2020: Okay folks. I need to take a moment here to address something. Please please PLEASE read all of the tags. They are there for your protection. I flagged this Mature, with Graphic Depictions of Violence for a reason. I’ve added a couple more specific ones for, but _please_ do not ignore the archive warnings or think “oh everyone uses those”. I want everyone to stay safe.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, liked to say they were perfectly normal thank you very much. They certainly seemed it, or took great pains to do so, though the neighbors sometimes wondered. Odd things sometimes happened around the smaller boy, the nephew. The neighbors often shook their heads in sympathy of the poor thing.

“Parents killed in a wreck...I heard the other driver was drunk. Such a tragedy.”

But the oddest thing was how he appeared one evening in October, just a week before Bonfire Night. The neighbors had been up late watching the news and looking for any hooligans deciding to celebrate early by setting off illegal fireworks. But the last; Mrs. Petunia Dursley, who was always of a nosy nature and liked to spy on the neighborhood, had long been asleep when the old man suddenly appeared at the end of the street. He simply winked into existence as if he had thrown off a cloak, which he then went about folding up. He then held up an old-fashioned cigarette lighter, and every time he clicked the starter there was a small pop, and a globe of light from a streetlamp would fly to the little silver box. When the street was in total darkness, one of the many stray cats that hung about the quiet street hopped off a wall and in a blink became a tall, thin woman with a severe expression and square wire-rimmed glasses on her nose.

“Albus.” she greeted the old man in the sort of gentle, furry Scottish brouge one hears these days. Her expression became concerned, just for a moment, before settling back to it’s usual astringent neutrality. She shook her head, the tight iron-colored bun perched atop it not budging an inch as she gathered her emerald cloak around her against the autumn chill. “I’ve been watching them all day. Must we leave him _here_? I know poor Arabella lives about here somewhere, couldn’t we-”

Albus Dumbledore shook his head, his expression one of gentle regret. His own half-moon spectacles gleaming in the diffuse light of the surrounding streets.

“I’m sorry, Professor McGonnagal. You know why it has to be them. Otherwise it’s all been for naught. This is his best chance.”

“Albus, _please_ , they’re not good-”

“Minerva. We’re still dangerously thin. And even our most dedicated are getting weary.” his eyes sparked then, the spark of authority. Professor McGonnagal subsided, stepping back a pace, but not before offering one last protest.

“No good will come of this, Headmaster.”

Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore smiled his trademark kindly, slightly sad smile, shaking his head.

“The greatest good will come of it, Professor McGonnagal. The greatest good always comes from love.”

Professor McGonnagal merely shook her head, standing silent and watching the sky, the only thing betraying her outward appearance of calm the tiny tick in her left pointer finger. Dumbledore stood still as a statue, his typical slightly merry expression unchanging as he also watched the heavens. Finally, there came the sound of a very, very large and very loud motorcycle. The neighbors paid it no special mind, simply muttering about the street hooligans getting worse, if they woke at all. It might be noted that Mr. Vernon Dursely of Number Four snored so prodigiously, owing more than he’d like to admit to his impressive girth, that Mrs. Petunia Dursley hardly noticed the noise. Their toddler son Dudley was too busy playing with his latest toy to care.

Shortly behind the roaring noise came the source, a vintage-looking motorcycle from the last decade, but much larger than any manufacturer ever made, or ever would. On it sat a true mountain of a man, Seven feet if he was an inch, and built along the lines of a tree-trunk. He had on an old-fashioned motorcycle helmet and goggles, and in the crook of his left arm was a bundle of cloth. Professor McGonnagal let a frown flick across her face as the large man landed the impractical vehicle, shutting off the roaring engine and swinging his leg off, a pink flowered umbrella sitting on a sheath up by the handlebars.

“Hagrid…. _where_ did you get that….contraption?” she asked severely, sending a glare at the giant man. It might have been made of rubber the way it bounced off of his easygoing manner.

“Why, young Sirius Black lent it to me, said he wouldn’ be needin’ it fer a time. Er...had t’ make it a bit bigger, but tha’s it. Tis all proper an’ all.” he looked slightly sheepish, and both Professors knew he was stretching the truth a bit, but let it pass. There were more important matters at hand than slightly illegal flying motorbikes. Professor Dumbledore stepped forward, holding out his arms. Hagrid handed over the bundle, which began squirming and muttering, revealing itself to be an infant boy, no older than a few months. Albus produced a basket from his cloak, and placed the infant in it, then ran a gentle thumb over the lightning-bolt shaped scar on the child’s forehead.

“So it did leave a mark…” the older man murmured speculatively as he stared down a moment. Then he shook himself, as a dog shook off water, and placed the basket on the step, with a note tucked in beside the sleeping infant. Then he motioned to the other two and stepped into the street, raising and flicking his lighter once more, all the balls of light zooming back to their lamp posts. Professor’s Dumbledore and McGonnagal strolled down to the end of the street before vanishing with twin pops, and Hagrid’s bike roared to life as he went in the opposite direction. The noise finally woke Mrs. Petunia Dursley, who shortly after heard the wail of an awoken infant, and thinking it was perhaps her son, started up from bed. But before she could burst into her son’s room and find him flouting his bed-time, she noted that the sound seemed as if it were coming from the front step. She opened the door to find a basket with a wailing boy, and a note.

She took both into her gleaming, spotless kitchen, setting the basket on the table and opening the note. The boy had stopped wailing as soon as he saw Mrs. Dursley’s face. It was peculiarly soft at that moment. She’d always wanted a second child, a brother for Dudley to play with, but after all the trouble she had giving birth, even her stubborn husband Mr. Vernon Dursley saw that it was foolishness to attempt another pregnancy.

She sat, and read the note in acid green ink on crackling parchment. It read thus:

_Mrs. Petunia Dursley_

_Privet Drive_

_No 4_

_Upper Bedroom_

_Madam,_

_You shall find this note attached to a boy with a scar on his forehead. Were there any choice, I would not ask this of you. You see, this boy is Harry Potter, the son of your sister, Lily Potter (nee Evans). You are his closest living relative. His parents, your sister and her husband, I am sorry to say have perished in tragic circumstances that require this child to be hidden and protected. I have taken diverse measures, but I must ask you to trust me in this, there can be no greater protection than for Harry to call home the house of Lily’s sister. I ask that you treat him as a normal child, with no greater indulgence than one would give any other child. I will send someone for him on his 11th birthday, when he is to start his schooling. Until then, I leave his care to you._

_Your servant_

_Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, Prof._

“Oh Lilly...you fool, I told you….I _told_ you that Potter boy was trouble….” Petunia whispered as she wiped her cheeks with a sleeve of her fluffy pink robe. Of course, the kitchen being rather cold, considering the time of night, the infant Harry began bawling again. This finally awoke Mr. Dursley, who came puffing and grumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Petunia? What the devil is all this squealing- good heavens what is that?” Mr. Dursley was a large man, with really no neck at all. It was after him that their son Dudley took. Mr. Dursley worked at a drill factory, and had a voice somewhat like one of his implements in use, a faintly plaintive tone. Though he could have an impressive roar when he chose, as no few of his employees had found out. Petunia looked up at her husband, her voice thick.

“Oh, Vernon….it’s Lily...there’s been an accident and….” she gestured to the basket with the note, not trusting her voice.

“All right….all right. Let’s take a breath now…” Vernon said nervously. He never was good with emotions, and seeing a crying woman always sent him into somewhat of a panic. His approach to emotion ran along the lines of ‘Stiff upper lip, and a stiffer drink to back it up.’ “Let’s have that, then” he said almost gently as he took the note, reading it and pausing to puzzle out the bits that had been smudged by Petunia’s tears. Petunia took a few breaths, then turned to quiet her nephew, knowing how Vernon detested the sound of crying. She watched Vernon out of the corner of her eye, fearing an explosion. The danger signs were all there, the vein in his forehead popping, the color starting to rise in his face. He started sputtering, and Petunia shushed harder, her lips pursing as she tried to fight off the fear. Her nephew, she must make sure Vernon didn't target the child…

“Well! Of all the daft! I never! WHO WROTE THIS!” Petunia swung her head around to look at her husband, her long neck hunched and her shoulders scrunched up. Her husband wasn't a very smart man, she knew that when she married him. But he had been so romantic when they were younger. He'd wooed her as nobody ever had, and he had a certain gawkish charm. Of course, the fact that he hadn't yet run to fat and still had the powerful rugged looks of the skilled boxer he'd been didn't hurt. But he wasn't quick-witted, and when things confused him he tended to get angry and hit things. Never her, yet, but he'd come close a time or two. There were some patched spots in the wall of the kitchen, which Petunia's exacting eye could still pick out, though nobody else could. She'd done it herself, when Vernon was at work, and told him she had workmen over, but that they'd botched it so badly the first time they redid it and didn't charge. Vernon was also exceedingly old-fashioned and didn't approve of her doing repairs herself, especially since she did them better than he did.

“Now, Vernon, you'll wake Dudley….” she started, hoping the reminder of his first-born -and a son! Oh how he'd been proud of that!- would calm him some. It worked, his face lost some of the red and the vein in his temple wasn't jumping anymore, but his jaw was still set in a way that told Petunia that anything could still set him off.

“Yes. Quite but, Petunia, this is from those people. Your sister's lot! Her and that wastrel husband of hers. That hair. Man probably never held a job in his life...” Petunia watched as the shudder her husband gave at the thought of James Potter, as if having long hair was the height of depravity. Very concerned with appearances, Vernon was. Petunia sometimes wondered if that was what stopped him from hitting her, his knowledge that the bruises would look bad and be hard to explain away. Petunia tuned back in as she heard the little signals that meant Vernon was reaching the end of his rant.

“Vernon, Vernon, please….” She put all the fear of him into her voice. Let him think she just thought he was getting too loud, that the neighbors would hear. That would calm him more than anything. “Look, the note says right there that they're dead. They won't turn up looking for him, and who knows? Maybe if we treat him like a normal boy, he'll be a normal boy. The note says we should, and it's only until he's eleven! Think of how good it would be for Dudley to have a little brother...he does get so lonely.” The second mention of his son and the advantages to him did the trick. Vernon calmed, and Petunia relaxed, for now. The danger was past.

“All right, all right. We'll take the lad in, but he better not do anything….odd. One hint, one WHIFF of…..that lot and I'll have my belt on him! Yes, yes. That's the way of it. “Spare the rod….” and all that. Now, get the boy settled and come back up to bed…we've had quite enough for the night, I think.”

Petunia could tell from his tone that he felt he had taken charge of the situation, and that always made him feel better. He'd just been promoted to floor supervisor at Grunnings, the drill factory he worked for, and he was utterly certain that before long he'd be in management. He'd even begun driving past the car dealership on his way home, looking over what they had on the show floor. Appearances, he said. But for Petunia, that was enough. She knew that when he felt manly and in control he was calm, and as close to happy as he ever got, so she wasn't going to look the gift horse in the mouth, or raise any fuss. She simply brought out some of the recently-stored baby things that Dudley had outgrown and brought them up with her to her and Vernon's bedroom, installing baby Harry in the crib. There'd been a rattle and a pacifier in the basket with him, so she put those in the crib as well and went to bed. Harry, sensing that at last all the scary parts were over, fell to sleep with only a small mutter. On the back garden wall, a cat with spectacle markings peered in the window for a few long moments, then meowed softly and hopped down, vanishing into the neighbor's hydrangeas.

****

Harry Potter of Number 4 Privet drive turned out to be anything but a normal boy. He had a positive knack for making his rattles and pacifiers disappear as a baby. This was borne with patience by his Aunt and Uncle, as far as he could tell. At least he didn’t have any memories of them punishing him for it.

That came later.

His earliest memory was when he was three. He and Dudley were at that stage of childhood where everything was a competition. Harry had some child toy that Dudley had discarded for the moment as uninteresting. As soon as his cousin saw that Harry had it, suddenly it was the most desireable toy in the whole world. Harry wasn’t done playing with it, and knew in a childish way that Dudley never played _with_ him, just in the same room. So he didn’t want to give it over, and said so. His cousin pitched a fit, wailing and throwing his arms about and stamping his feet. Harry didn’t like this noise, and didn’t want his Aunt to take the toy away from him, so he hid it behind his back. Now since he was only 3, and a skinny 3 at that, this wasn’t the best hiding place. Aunt Petunia spotted the trouble right away, but Harry had a Secret Plan. He would deny any knowledge of what was upsetting his cousin, after all, if he didn’t know the cause he couldn’t possibly be at fault right? It was rather a brilliant plan for a three year old.

Aunt Petunia saw through the ruse immediately of course.

“Harry! Give that back to Dudley!” her stern tone made Harry wince. She never used that voice with Dudley, nor Uncle Vernon. Only Harry.

“Don’t know! Don’t know! Don’t have anything!” Harry insisted, panicking in the way of a child who knows they’re caught but can’t admit it yet. This went back and forth a few times, until Harry reached a childish shriek.

“DON’T HAVE ANYTHING!” and suddenly, he felt the weight of the toy was gone! Dudley cried harder, his Aunt was staring at him, and Harry turned around, looking for the toy. Then the worst thing happened.

Uncle Vernon came home.

Vernon Dursley walked into his front door, incredibly satisfied with himself. He’d bossed three people that day, the current run of drills was ahead of schedule, and his boss had dropped a few broad hints that if he kept that sort of thing up a new position couldn’t be far behind.

“Tunia, darling! I’m home!” he called as he came through the door, thinking that they’d get takeout or something that night to celebrate his good mood. Unfortunately, as he came upon the tableau, his good mood vanished. He frowned in confusion, then anger as he saw his Wife and his Son arrayed against The Boy, who it was clear had done something to upset his Son.

That wouldn’t do at all, and he rumbled as he advanced to his Wife’s side

“What’ve we got here?” he demanded, looking piercingly at Petunia. Inside he felt a sinking feeling. He had an idea as soon as he saw the shocked look on his wife’s face, and the lingering pain in her eyes. It was true that Vernon Dursley was very concerned with appearances, because a good appearance could cover for any number of failings in a man’s character. Vernon knew he had several, so he was fanatical about keeping up appearances. But he was not without feeling, and he truly did love his wife. Though he claimed it was the utter foreign nature of _that lot_ that unnerved him, in truth it was how much having one of _those people_ for a sister had hurt his Petunia that made him convinced that nothing good could ever come of them.

He knew that look. He didn’t even have to hear the story. The day had come, and The Boy had just hurt his most prized possession, the thing he treasured most in the world, his Petunia. His fists balled, and he felt his face grow hot as the rage he never could quite control and that led to his lifetime disqualification from the boxing ring boiled to the surface.

Harry knew none of this, of course. He heard his Uncle Vernon come in, heard the change in his voice, saw the red in his face and knew he was in Big Trouble. Harry started to wail to match his cousin Dudley, which made his Uncle shout. His Aunt ducked her head as he did and grabbed Dudley, murmuring all sorts of nonsense to him about a new toy and all sorts of things to try to get him to quiet down. Harry’s Uncle advanced on him, and Harry tried to back away but was trapped by the couch. When Harry turned to try and run, his Uncle caught his arm and hauled him off the floor, carrying him by his arm to the couch. His Uncle’s belt was in his hand, and quickly Harry found himself bent over his Uncle's knee, that belt falling mercilessly on his backside. This made him cry harder. They locked him in the cupboard under the stairs with no dinner. The next morning, they moved his bed in there, and that had become his room.

Harry shook himself out of his memories as he heard his Aunt coming down the stairs. In a moment she’d be rapping “his” door and barking curt orders about his chores for the day. Harry began putting on his clothes, shaking a spider out of his worn trainers. He was used to spiders. They mostly left him alone, and he’d gotten good at identifying the ones that wouldn’t and smashing them as soon as he saw them. As he expected, he was just putting his glasses on when his Aunt knocked loudly on his door.

“Up! Breakfast! Today’s Garden day!”

Harry sighed quietly before calling “Yes, Aunt Petunia!” through the door and once again attempting to flatten his wild hair. He didn’t have a comb, and in any case he barely had time to make use of one. He slipped out as soon as his Aunt opened the latch and made his way to the kitchen, not bothering with a greeting he knew would only bring a frown, or a grunt. Uncle Vernon already had his coffee and the paper, and eyed Harry as he went quickly to the stove and started the burners, putting pots and pans on it and setting about to make the usual morning fry-up.

“Take care with the bacon today, boy. You burnt it last time.” his Uncle rumbles from behind his paper. Harry knew he’d done no such thing, but he dutifully muttered some submissive affirmation and went about cooking as he usually did. He was a fair cook by now, he’d been at it since he was seven, and it was the one area his Aunt had unbent enough to help him in. He suspected this was largely because she had to eat what he prepared, as she was too busy involved in the morning Argument with his cousin Dudley to spare time to fix any blunders he made. The Argument was always the same, Dudley did not want to go to school, he hated the teachers and he would never _use_ any of it anyway, he was going to follow his Dad into business, they’d open their own firm, and a million other excuses. Really Dudley didn’t give a fat hoot about the utility, or lack thereof, of his education. He just wanted to stay home and play video games all day.

Harry shook his head and snorted as he turned the bacon, setting the tinned beans on low to heat and watching the pan for the eggs, waiting for it to get just the right temperature. He heard his Uncle grunt suspiciously and lower his paper, and before his Uncle could ask what Harry was about he faked a cough, waving his hand over the smoking bacon. He had the pan so hot because as soon as Aunt Petunia talked Dudley out of his room he’d be loudly demanding breakfast. It wasn’t perfect for bacon, it tended to smoke quite a bit, but as long as you kept turning it, it wouldn’t burn. His Uncle grunted, having seen Aunt Petunia do the same every now and again, so he just went back to his paper. Harry turned the bacon again and decided it looked about done, a nice even orangish color all over, so he takes the pan off to let it cool a bit then turns to the eggs, beating them in a bowl with a fork and a little cream before pouring them in the pan and nuding them about til they got fluffy. Just as he finishes, the toaster pops up and the beans start bubbling, so he gets everything onto three plates and sets it on the table, just in time for his Aunt and cousin to come in, Dudley whining about his school clothes and Petunia repeating the same old platitudes, seemingly on automatic. 

Once Dudley realizes they’re in the kitchen, he takes a breath to loudly question where his breakfast is, only for Harry to set his plate down in front of his usual chair. Harry keeps his eyes down and lets his messy hair flop in front of them a bit, he’d learned that was safest so his cousin couldn’t accuse him of “smirking” or “giving him smart looks”. Dudley sat his massive backside in the chair, his piggy eyes lightning greedily on his double-portion and one stubby-fingered hand picking up a fork as he attacked the plate. Uncle Vernon’s portion was also rather large, but not as excessive, and Aunt Petunia just had a couple pieces of toast, two slices of bacon and some orange juice, plus a half a grapefruit that she sliced herself. Harry nibbled on a triangle of toast as he washed the dishes, finished about the same time his Aunt finished eating and ordered him out into the Garden.

This wasn’t any sort of pleasure either, his Aunt did all the planting, training, light trimming and the like. Harry’s job was the heavy work, weeding, squaring the hedge, turning the empty flowerbed, mowing, and then gathering all the clippings and such and loading them into the bin. By the time he finished it was midday, and a very hot July afternoon. Harry had snuck a look at the forecast on the back of his Uncle’s paper, and it was looking to be a record heatwave. Harry carefully cleaned off his trainers and beat as much mud and dirt off his trousers as he could, Then went in through the kitchen door where his Aunt was busily scrubbing the floor as she tried to purge some imagined stain. Harry carefully kept to the plastic runner his Aunt has laid down, after he stopped just in the door and took his worn-out trainers off just to be sure before He practically tip-toed to his cupboard and changed into another set of Dudley’s rolled and tucked cast-offs, the belt cinched tight around his waist to keep the trousers up.

Harry finally had a few moments to himself, and he huddled in his cupboard, As he looked at the little scrap of paper he’d made a calendar for himself on. _A week til my birthday. Happy birthday, Harry_ . The thought turned him slightly glum as he contemplated what sort of rubbish his Aunt and Uncle would hand him this year. Or if they’d just overlook it entirely. He let himself fall into a daydream where he’d never had funny accidents and his Aunt and Uncle...well, not exactly _doted_ on him. He didn’t want to end up a great ball of lard like his cousin, but at least liked him. They probably wouldn’t let Dudley bully him as much if they liked him. Just a little. He heard the mail flap on the front door go and sighed as it broke his reverie. He knew it would never happen, but he couldn’t stop his traitorous imagination from taking off the flight of fancy anyway.

Harry hoisted himself off his bed and went to get the mail off the floor before his Uncle stepped on it and yelled at him. He listlessly bent down to snag up the envelope and did a double take. The acid green ink and spiky handwriting were enough to grab his attention, but there was the utterly confusing and somewhat frightening addition of the envelope being addressed to _him_. Harry froze as he read the words

_Mr. H. Potter_

_Cupboard under the stairs_

_Number 4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging, Surrey_

Harry was elated at first, just from the novelty of seeing _his name_ on a piece of post. Then he was confused, because _who would send him post? And why?_ His eyes shot to the upper corner, but there was no return address. He flipped the envelope over, eyebrow creased in increasing bemusement, to see the flap sealed with an archaic wax seal that bore a very detailed coat of arms. As he took in the many details, he heard his cousin as he puffed his way down the stairs. Some deep instinct warned Harry that Dudley couldn’t know he had post, he’d very likely-

“What’s that you’ve got there?”

 _Bother. Too slow…._ Harry clutched the envelope tightly and shook his head. “It’s nothing, Dudley. Something for Uncle Vernon.” Harry tried to slip it to the very bottom of the mail pile, maybe he could sneak out later and get at it before his Uncle checked the post, but Dudley, while not especially gifted with intelligence, was cunning. His piggy little eyes narrowed suspiciously and his thick-fingered hand snatched for the envelope as he shoved Harry back just in case the smaller boy tried to stop him. Dudley’s eyes stuttered over the addressing on the envelope, then got as wide as his chubby face would allow. He took in a big breath and before Harry could say anything, Dudley was shouting.

“Mum, Da! Harry’s got post!”

***

As soon as his cousin’s voice rang out, Harry knew he could not salvage the situation, but he desperately wanted to know what the letter said. It couldn’t be called an act of bravery, not really. There was no calm rationale, no reasoning of “I am afraid, but I know what I must do.” It was more akin to a trapped animal seeing their last hope of escape slowly being pulled away, Harry lashed out blindly, leaping on his cousin and grabbing at the envelope.

“GIVE THAT BACK!” he shrieked, followed shortly by his cousin’s own shriek as Harry turned into a miniature whirlwind, kicking, scratching, trying to hit. In his skinny, underfed and overworked state though, it didn’t have much effect beyond Dudley’s initial shock. After the first few blows fell, Dudley started giving as good as he got. Better, in fact, since he had more weight to put behind him and more energy, which he used ruthlessly. It was seconds, but to Harry it felt like eternity until his Uncle came roaring in from the study.

“HARRY! DAMN YOU BOY THAT’S IT! PETUNIA GET IN HERE!” Harry felt himself yanked away by Uncle Vernon, spun a moment later to face his Uncle, who was going purple with rage. Petunia flew into the room and froze for a moment as she and Harry locked eyes. For that fleeting instant Harry saw a tiny piece of truth in his Aunt’s eyes, the fear plain in the narrowed pupils, the widened eyelids, the stunned expression. Then the storm shutters slammed down and Aunt Petunia’s face reverted to it’s pinched frown as she fawned over Dudley. Harry’s eyes locked back on Uncle Vernon, whose fists had clenched. The large man was spitting with rage.

“We took you in! Gave you shelter! Out of our own goodness! I knew it, should have dropped you at the nearest hospital! Attack  _ MY SON!”  _ Uncle Vernon let loose his full roar on the last two syllables, which shocked Harry from his adrenaline-charged state. The ten-year-old looked at his cousin, who had a few scratches on his arm and a mild bruise on his cheek, milking all of them for what they were worth as he darted looks at Harry when neither of his parents were looking. A moment later Harry felt Uncle Vernon’s hands on him again, giving the boy a sharp shake.

“Look at me when I’m talking, Boy! I don’t know what that letter is, but by GOD I will thrash whoever sent it! But first.” Uncle Vernon reached down and unbuckled his belt “you need a lesson, Boy.” he whipped it off in what looked like a practiced motion, then doubled it over.

Dudley had hit Harry plenty of times over the years, at school, on trips, whenever he thought he could get away with it, really. Harry had stopped complaining when he was old enough to realize it wouldn’t do any good. This was completely different. He was turned and bent over his uncle's knee, and the strap was applied rather indiscriminately between his shoulders and backside. Another few seconds that felt like eternity, each stroke burning, and finally something broke inside Harry. It felt like a large reservoir that he hadn’t noticed before burst, and he  _ BURNED _ . He was already yelling in pain, but impossibly he shrieked louder, his throat burned in protest. It was a tiny discomfort compared to the way his every nerve was on fire. Harry heard his Uncle yelp, his aunt and cousin both shrieked as he felt himself flung across the room, his head smacked into the living room wall. The pain cut off, and was swept away by welcome blackness as Harry’s consciousness abandoned him for the time being.

***

Vernon sat stunned in his chair, replaying the memory endlessly, trying to figure out  _ what just happened _ . He had heard his son call out that Harry had post.  _ “Post?!”  _ he thought to himself  _ “Who in blazes would send that boy  _ post _?!”  _ And so he had gotten up to investigate. A moment later, before he even reached the door of his study, his son, his  _ only son _ gave a shriek as if he were being butchered. Vernon went slamming through his door, to find  _ that boy _ attacking  _ his son _ . The world went red. He roared something and called for Petunia, and then grabbed  _ that boy _ . Vernon wasn’t exceptionally proud of what happened after. In later years he would always get evasive when asked about it, saying he blacked out or wasn’t rational. In reality, he went cold, numb, pushed past his breaking point by his fear of  _ that boy _ bringing harm to  _ his _ family like his damn fool father had brought to poor Lily. He’d rather liked his wife’s sister, despite her…..idiosyncrasies. There was a charm about the woman that it was impossible not to like. His fear transmuted to towering rage, and in that animal state he reverted to habits learned from  _ his _ father. The child in his hands was no longer his nephew, no longer a defenseless, skinny little boy. It was a threat, and he would deal with it accordingly. He began strapping the boy mercilessly. If he couldn’t starve it out, demoralize it, or be rid of it through neglect, he would damn well  _ beat _ the freak out of the boy.

Except that wasn’t what happened. He got four, maybe five strokes in and suddenly the boy  _ glowed _ .  _ Blazed _ in fact, blinding white while shrieking like a banshee, and Vernon felt himself toppled over the back of the chair he had sat to bend the boy over his knee. Harry went  _ flying _ and his head hit the wall with a gut-wrenching  _ thud. _ He didn’t immediately fall limp, he looked around as if dazed and then his eyes rolled back and he passed out as if exhausted. Vernon sat stunned for a moment, and then picked himself up and silently headed for the kitchen and his bottle of Brandy.

***

Petunia knew it would happen eventually. Ever since that incident when the boys were toddlers, she knew eventually something would happen. Her eyes widened as she saw the tableau of her husband holding her nephew a clear foot off the floor and giving him a shake. She flew to her son, terrified to act out of character lest her husband turn on  _ her _ . He never had but...she had also never seen him this angry. Absently, almost as if she seperated herself from the scene for a few moments, she noted a cat leap from out of the bushes and streak off down the street. Then when he took his  _ belt _ to Harry...she just covered Dudley in kisses and mentally repeated  _ not my son, not my son, not  _ my _ son, not my son _ as Harry cried. Then she looked up as the cries rose to a crescendo and witnessed the silent explosion that hurtled her husband over the back of his chair and her nephew across the room. It was as she sat in shock that a series of sharp raps came from the door. Vernon looked at her, and she got up to answer it, silently praying  _ please not the police, please…. _

What she got was worse. A very severe woman with an iron-grey bun, pince-nez half spectacles and a scowl that put Petunia’s to utter shame stood on the doorstep, wearing a tweed suit and deep forest green robes, with a peaked hat. Petunia remembered her, remembered when she came to their parents house, for Lilly. Her hair had been more black than grey then, but still kept in a tight bun. She had smiled more, in a gentle way.

She was not smiling now.

“Petunia and Vernon Dursley.” her voice was ice cold and full of iron. “You have prevented a Hogwarts student from receiving his admission letter, and physically  _ abused _ a  _ ten year old boy _ . Furthermore, there is ample evidence of psychological abuse and severe neglect. Under my authority as Deputy Headmistress, I am removing Harry James Potter from your care, and making him a ward of the School. If  _ he _ desires it, information regarding his new guardian will be sent to you. Otherwise, you may write to him at the school, though I doubt he will wish to read any of your letters. Now, show me to the boy at once.”

***

Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Master, Master of Mind Magic, Head of Gryffindor House, Professor and Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was absolutely  _ furious _ . She’d known from the start that the Dursleys were not good people. She’d watched as Harry got thinner and thinner, deluding herself that surely,  _ surely _ Albus wouldn’t let any actual abuse take place. Would have some sort of failsafe in place. Even the orphan’s ward at St Mungos would have been better if they could  _ truly _ find nowhere else to place Harry. Finally, a week ago, she’d badgered the old codger into revealing to her why Harry could not be moved.

_ “The blood protection, Minerva. It’s all that keeps Harry safe. Voldemort’s followers are still out there. We don’t know why the Killing Curse backfired, if it would happen a second time without Lily there to sacrifice herself. It may be unpleasant, but it’s for the greater good…” _ Oh, how she  _ hated _ that phrase! Her older sister had fought against Grindelwald in The First Blood War, what the muggles called the Second Great War. It had occurred to her then that Albus used to phrase more often than she would like. So, it being the holiday, she took to watching over Number 4, Privet Drive rather fanatically. She hoped to find some shred of proof, some tiny little morsel of truth to what Albus had said. Instead she saw a child treated worse than a house elf, and if there was indeed a blood ward - which she saw no evidence of, and it would be a busy ward to hide from  _ her! _ \- it had failed long ago. Harry was no safer here than he would be on the street! Worse off, in fact, if the absolutely  _ disgusting _ display she’d just watched through the garden window was anything to go by.

She’d had enough, and she would be damned for a fool before she would watch a child  _ beaten _ ! And that’s how she came to be standing on the Dursleys doorstep, openly defying Albus’ orders and not able to bring herself to give much of a damn.

“There’s no one here by that name, now excuse me, my Husband’s just had an accide-”

“PETUNIA EVANS!” Minerva snapped, jamming the toe of her very sturdy boot into the bottom of the door, preventing Petunia from closing it. The other woman flinched at the shout, stepping back in reflex. Minerva’s eyes narrowed, and her tone gentled.

“Petunia. You know who I am. While I may understand a certain dislike, I am the woman who took your sister away after all, you  _ know _ I will not simply go away. I am asking you, as a courtesy, to show me to Harry. If you refuse, I will come in anyway. Either way, Harry is coming with me, now.”

Petunia was silent for a long moment, during which Vernon reappeared from the kitchen, brandy bottle in one hand and a tumblr with ice in the other.

“Oh, bugger off you old bint, we’re in the middle of-”

“Vernon Dursley, you were in the middle of  _ abusing _ -”

“I WAS DOING NO SUCH THI-”

“ _ I SAW YOU WITH MY OWN EYES-” _

_ “ _ Aha! So, spying on us, eh?! Well, now you’re under a citizen's arrest, you barmy twat! Dudders! Get over there and nab her, eh? We’ll see what the Met has to say about this!”

“A cit-The wha-Oh, that’s  _ quite enough! _ ” Minerva shook her head, and as the other child - about Harry’s age, but certainly large enough for three of him - moved towards her with an excited gleam in his beady eye she took her wand from it’s holster up her sleeve with a sweeping motion and a silent pulse of her magic. Soon all three Dursleys found themselves sliding into chairs, stuck to them as if glued in place, lips glued together.

“Now that I have your attention, here is what will happen. You will remain there while I collect Harry and his things. Once I have left, the charms will wear off on their own, though due to how... _ distraught _ I was at the utter threat your  _ ten year old son _ posed, I cannot say how long. Not long enough to pose a threat to your life, but I imagine it will be longer than is comfortable. I advise against struggling too much, you may tip the chairs.” she gives another wave of her wand, and three hovering balls of deep green light float and hang above each Dursley’s head.

“Those are suspended  _ obliviate _ charms. I want you to understand exactly how much trouble you are in, so they will not erase everything that has happened here today. Merely my use of magic, and the unfortunate state you’ve gotten yourself into. Once the sticking charms wear off, those three will activate, and you will remember only that someone from Social Services came to take Harry away, with some very unamused constables that made sure you sat in the living room for a while.”

She then turned her back on the Dursleys, seeing where Harry lay sprawled on the steps. She gave a small gasp, mentally berating herself for getting so absorbed in her anger at the Dursleys that she’d left the boy like that for so long. She practically flew over to him, clucking as she checked him over by sight and feel. No bloody, no lumps, nothing obviously broken, and no unnatural angle to his neck or back...he should be safe to move. Nevertheless, she cast a silent  _ levicorpus _ , which would be the most gentle way to carry the boy. He floated up as if supported by an invisible mattress.

“ _ Accio _ Harry’s things!” Minerva barked, not having time to revive the boy and ask where they were. The boot-cupboard under the stairs popped open, and a pair of trousers, a shirt, and a pair of socks zoomed out and landed on the floor in front of Minerva. Her eyes widened, then narrowed as she shot a glare at the Dursleys.

“ _ Accio  _ boys’ clothes!” she barked, and from upstairs in Dudley’s room came a mountain of clothing, joining the pitiful little bundle at Minerva’s feet. She used her wand to sort through them silently, choosing seven t-shirts, seven pairs of trousers, socks and underwear, a pair of trainers, a hooded sweater, a poncho and rain boots. These she wordlessly folded together in a compact, organized bundle before she shrunk them and tucked them in a pocket. She’d transfigure them later to fit Harry. It was the least these people could do. She left everything else laying where it was tossed in her selection, and stepped over to the fireplace, using her emergency access from her DMLE days to connect it to the Floo connection in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. She tossed a handful of Floo powder into the roaring fire she conjured, gathered Harry close to her and called out “HOGWARTS” before vanishing in a whirlwind of green flame.


	2. Hogwarts, and conversations.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes at Hogwarts, Minerva continues to be a Mama Lion, Albus gets what's coming, and Snape has a heart attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied/referenced child abuse, swearing, malnutrition.
> 
> SO! We’re at Hogwarts now. Harry’s state may seem a bit severe, but it’s explained why. Also, this chapter is a bit shorter. I needed to get to bed, and I really want to give Gringotts it's own chapter. I know we haven't had much really thrilling yet, but the real meat of things is coming, never fear!
> 
> Thank you lovelies, and see you next time!

Harry woke slowly, on his own. His head hurt, and he had the strange sensation he was lying on something squashy. His body also...buzzed? No. Hummed. That was the word for it. It was like something he hadn’t known was missing was all around him. It felt warm, felt safe. He could hear voices nearby, and out of long habit, kept his eyes closed and his breathing deep and even, faking sleep while he determined if it was safe to wake up right that moment.

“-can’t believe, they were _starving him to death_ , Minerva! How he lasted this long is a miracle! And that doesn’t even go into the bruises, or the _scars!_ _Scars, Minerva!_ Without a bit of curse damage! I don’t think the boy has seen a medic, _ever!”_

“I know, Poppy. I know! That’s why I brought him here…”

“That’s not enough, Minnie! You know what he’ll say! He’ll try to send him back there, him and his precious _blood protection!_ Ha! Fat lot of protecting it did!”

There was a moment of silence, and then something too soft for Harry to make out.

“What?” the second voice asked.

“I won’t let him do that.” the first, the one with the scots accent, said flatly, steel and fire in its tone.

“Good. We can’t anyway, the ministry found your obliviates and decided to leave them in place. We’ll have to open an inquiry of course, both with the muggles and with the Ministry.”

Harry tried to cock his head, a habit of his when he was thinking, and groaned at the sudden spike of pain that it caused. Oh, that was _not kind_ . He _hurt_ , all over, as if he’d been smacked with his aunt’s cast-iron skillet- again -and then left in front of the oven all day. Singed was the closest he could come up with, though he didn’t smell the unmistakable scent of burnt hair and skin that came when he burned himself cooking. Apparently the pathetic sound that escaped him was enough to bring the owners of both voices over to him. He hadn’t tried opening his eyes yet, as he knew that this kind of pain usually brought photosensitivity with it.

“Harry, dear, I need you to open your eyes for me. You’ve suffered a nasty knock and while my tests didn’t say you’ve a concussion, I need to make sure. I’ve dimmed the torches…”

_Torches? Dimmed? How d’you dim a torch?_

Even this hurt, his mind still whirred at it’s usual speed. He couldn’t hold the thoughts very well, but they all zoomed through his head the same. He made a soft _nng_ of acknowledgement and cautiously cracked his eyes. When that didn’t bring immediate agony, he blinked them slowly open, looking up at the two strange women hovering over him.

“Wh-” the first syllable rasped his throat and brought on a fit of coughing, and _oh god coughing was bad owowowowoBUGGERINGOW!_

Cool, but firm hands were on his shoulders. They held him in place as he tried to curl into a ball because oh god _everything_ hurt now. At first the roaring in his ears was too much to make out what was being said, but eventually the sense of it penetrated.

“-ay back, relax a bit, there’s a good lad. Come on now, I’ve some water for you….”

Harry slowly let his muscles relax and uncurled, then felt a straw set gently on his lips. He took it and sipped, then sucked greedily as the water tasted like the most wonderful thing _ever_ , and sent a blessed wave of coolness spreading from his middle. It even helped the headache enough that he could open his eyes fully, though everything remained heavily blurred. He slowly reached out and didn’t feel his glasses perched on his nose.

“They’re on your bedside table, lad. Is it bad without them?”

Harry nodded slowly, not willing to risk talking yet, even though the water had soothed his throat.

“Here, let me.”

His glasses were slid carefully onto his face, and he could now see clearly enough to actually make out features of the two women watching him.

“Harry.” the one with the scots brogue said softly “You’re at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I know this may be a bit much to take in, but you are actually a wizard. The letter that arrived for you today would have explained all this.” Harry could see her concern as she watched for his reaction.

Harry stared at her a moment, his eyes going wide as _so many things_ made sense now! The vanishing toy, the incidents at school, blowing his uncle across-Oh. Oh, bugger. That happened. Harry felt his expression of shock and wonder slowly shift to one of utter dread. It might trigger another coughing fit, but he _had_ to know!

“My-” the word rasped but didn’t trigger another fit. He cleared his throat and tried again “My Uncle, did I....hurt him?” He watched the scots woman nod slowly, her brow furrowing in concern, and he gave a full-body cringe.

“You have to take me back, I have to apologise, to fix it, to clean everything! He-he’ll _kill_ me if I don’t! He might kill me anyway! I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a bother. I can’t pay for this anyway, my Aunt and Uncle won’t and I don’t have any money and-”

“Mister Potter!” McGonagall snapped, breaking off the flood of words. Her expression softened again, and she laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Mister Potter, Harry, listen to me. You don’t have to go back there, ever again. Your Aunt and Uncle cannot do anything to you, ever. I think introductions are needed. I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. I have other positions as well but they’re not important right now. Your parents paid your tuition on the day of your birth, and while it’s somewhat irregular for students to use the Hospital Wing during the holiday, these are _highly_ irregular circumstances. Treatments here are included in your tuition, and even if they weren’t, for a case such as yours all fees would have been waived.” Minerva looked across Harry at the other woman, making a _go ahead_ motion.

“Harry, my name is Poppy Pomfrey, I’m the Matron here, and arguably one of the most skilled MediWitches in Britain. I’m sorry for not asking your permission first, but I did a full scan when you were brought in. As you were unconscious, potentially injured, and in visually poor health, I had no choice. From now on, as long as you’re conscious or can be made so, I will ask your permission for all treatments, all right? You have a right to refuse any treatment for any reason. The only one who can override you is your Magical Guardian.”

Harry slowly calmed throughout all of this. _Did they know what they were offering?! An escape from his relatives! But….why? Nobody wanted him….and, he had a choice? What? He could refuse treatment? He was in control? Well, except for his...wait a second._

“Magical Guardian? What’s that?”

McGonagall and Pomfrey traded a look, and then looked back down to Harry.

“They’re appointed to every witch or wizard raised by muggles - people without magic. Did...yours never contact you?”

Harry shook his head, and the witches traded another look.

“Well then. First order of business is Gringotts, I think, but tomorrow.” Poppy noted, then looked back at Harry “The reason you’re in such sorry shape is you expended all the magic that had gathered in your body at once. This we call “magical exhaustion.” For a grown wizard, it usually means they’re out for a week, but you have an exceptionally strong magical core. At the rate it’s recovering, you should only need to stay the night with me, as long as you don’t do anything magically strenuous tomorrow. A trip to Diagon and Gringotts should be well within limits.”

Harry took all this in quietly, and then just nodded, letting his head lay back and his eyes unfocus behind his glasses. He really was very tired, but now that he knew he was a wizard, a few more questions were answered.

 _That...humming. Is that magic? No wonder it feels so warm and welcoming. I don;t know what Diagon or Gringotts is, but...I think I’m actually_ safe _! In a place where people_ want _me! Well. So far, anyway. I’m sure there’s some sort of catch, nothing comes free. But, if I can learn to do real, actual magic? Worth it._

He drifted off then, losing himself in the warm hum of the magic all around him and the soft murmur of voices as McGonagall and Pomfrey walked away to let him get some sleep. His eyes slid closed, and again he knew blackness, but this time it was the soothing dark of true sleep.

****

Minerva marched down the halls and up to the Gargoyle, which took one look at her expression and slid aside without even waiting for the password. In her hand was a copy of all of Poppy’s diagnostics, and what they showed was….disturbing, to say the least. Or, as Minerva preferred _Absolutely bloody infuriating_. She waited impatiently for the staircase to take her up to Albus’ office, which she slammed into without even knocking. The headmaster looked up from what he was working on with that signature twinkle in his eye, and greeted his deputy softly.

“Ah, Professor McGonagall. To what do I owe this...abrupt pleasure?” his tone held a mild rebuke, but Minerva ignored it, slamming the parchment down on the headmaster’s desk, leaning over it and practically _spitting_ in her rage.

“Malnutrition. Numerous scars, microfractures, at least two major broken bones that never set properly, and optic damage from an impact with a cast-iron _frying pan_ . It’s a wonder the child can see at all! Do you know what I saw today, Albus? I saw a 30 year old man _beating an eleven year old boy with his belt_ . Some of those strokes drew _blood_!”

Albus’s face grew grave and concerned at the list of what was clearly a medical report. He sat in his chair and drew the parchment to himself and looked it over quickly, so lost in list of maladies, injuries and general damage that he hadn’t even seen the name at the top.

“Eleven, you said? One of the first-years? We’ve brought them here?” He looked back up at Minerva, who only set her lips in a thin, flat line and nodded tersely.

“He’s with Poppy now. I’ve declared him a ward of the school, Poppy witnessed it and signed off on the medical exam. She floo’d to the Ministry with the paperwork as I was leaving the Hospital Wing to come here.” _And by now is probably speaking to the head of the DMLE. Stick THAT in your useless blood wards!_ She thought fiercely to herself.

“Who is it? Do they have family incoming?” Albus turned back to the paper, and then went stock-still and pale.

“Minerva…” he began, his voice gone hoarse.

“Don’t, Albus. Don’t you dare. Do not even attempt to justify your negligence here. You left _Harry James Potter_ , in an abusive _muggle_ household for _eleven years._ If I weren’t already so busy with my other duties, I would be going to the governors _this instant_ to petition for your sacking. And don’t you _ever_ tell me anything is for “the greater good” again! My sister _died_ hearing those words! And don’t think you can sack me first, I’ve left copies of everything with Poppy, who is even now revealing everything to the DMLE. I came here first as a courtesy. Good day, Albus.” Her tirade finished, she spun on her heel and walked out.

Once she reached the corridor and made sure she was well away from the entrance to his office, she collapsed against a wall, letting the cool stone soothe her anger for now. She needed to be calm with Harry. She needed to….to….she had no idea what she needed to do. But she knew who did. She took a deep breath, pushed herself away from the wall, and went down to the dungeons.

***

Severus Snape was in the middle of inventorying his potions ingredients for the coming term. He had done the same thing at the start of the summer holiday, but there had been a few incidents that needed his skills, so he had to do it again to make sure he had everything before the start of term in six weeks. Just as he got done with the student stores and was ready to move on to his private stores, when there was a soft knock on the door to his classroom. He turned, frowning in puzzlement.

“Professor McGonagall. Can I help you?” she had that pinched look about her that spoke of a recent bout of her legendary scots temper. _Oh Lord, six weeks to term and already something has happened._

“I hope so, Severus, I...I find myself at a loss. I went to check on one of our muggle-raised students and found...well.” she handed Severus the now rather crumpled parchment. She had realized she’d balled her fists as she walked, and she took another deep breath and forced herself to _relax_.

Snape looked over the parchment, again ignoring the name at the top for the information below. As he read the report, his face lost what little color it had, and his eyes seemed to become pools of pure black as his brow knitted. _Then_ he looked at the name at the top, and staggered back a step. _lilly’ssonlilly’ssonLILLY’S! SON!_ His eyes shot back up to Minerva, and he rasped out a single word.

“Where?” Minerva held up a hand to forestall any panicked flight from the room, and answered gently.

“He’s asleep in the Hospital Wing. Poppy left an elf watching him, she had to report to the Ministry. I’ve just come from Albus’ office. I let him know in no uncertain terms that if we had a replacement that _wasn’t me_ , I’d have him sacked for negligence over this, his precious “Greater good” be _damned_.”

Severus gave a jerky nod, then took a breath to compose himself, and ran a hand through his silken hair. Most people called it _greasy_ , but it was just very fine and naturally straight. _As if I could be so careless with hygiene, around potentially volatile potions ingredients. Idiots._

“What do you need from me? Poppy has all the right potions in sufficient supply. Nutrient supplements, ocularis, even bruise balm.” Severus’ tone was cool and even, and masked a sinking feeling in his gut. He had a terrible suspicion why Minerva came to him, and it was confirmed with the next thing she said.

“I...don’t know what else he needs, Severus. Your Slytherin house sees much more of this sort of thing than my Lions. I...I need advice. How do I treat him? My usual stern matron style won’t work here.” Severus sighed, and shook his head.

“Yes, my snakes come from rough backgrounds, even or perhaps especially the pureblood heirs. But I’m no expert, Minerva. The boy will need a mind-healer, sooner rather than later. Until then? Give him choices. Help him feel in control, and treat him how _he_ wants to be treated. That won’t magically fix him, but it’ll keep it from becoming worse. Now, excuse me. I cannot put off my inventory any longer.” and he turned and fled into the small room where he kept the more dangerous, rare, or volatile ingredients he didn’t want students having free access to. He waited a few moments to hear Minerva’s footfalls receding, then collapsed onto a nearby stool, head in his hands. _Oh Lilly….I failed you again. Eleven years! Some vow._

As other thoughts in the same vein churned through the Potions Master’s head, Minerva went to the staffroom and the small library they had there, burying herself in books until she couldn’t focus on the pages, before taking herself off to bed.

The only definite result was this. Her Gryffindors were too chaotic for the boy. He’d need a more supportive environment. Minerva could only pray the damn Hat agreed with her, for once.

***

Harry woke slowly, again. No pounding on his cupboard door, or Aunt Petunia’s voice barking ‘up!’ at him. He woke to fresh air, sunlight, a soft warm bed, and birdsong. For a moment he wondered if he really _had_ died after this last beating and somehow ended up in heaven.

Then his memories came rushing back, and he allowed himself a tentative smile. _Not heaven, better. I’m at a school called Hogwarts. They rescued me from the Dursleys, and I’m going to learn magic._

A nasty voice echoed in his head.

_Right, freak. Until they get tired of how stupid you are, and toss you out with the rubbish where you belong. You’re too broken to do any good._

Harry shook his head, groaning and sitting up, shoving on his glasses to look around, ground himself in the real. That voice sounded an awful lot like Dudley at his most cruel, and he firmly decided that he _wasn’t going to think about them anymore_ . The groan and his motion brought one of the women from yesterday _Madam Pomfrey. Poppy. She works here, she helped you_ bustling over. She waved a stick at him, and he _saw_ the blossom of magic come from it and settle over him like a fine powder. He fought the urge to sneeze, and instead yawned.

“Well, Mr. Potter. Looks like your care has made a full recovery. That’s not to say _you_ have, but if I tried for that I’d have you in this wing until you came of age. You’ve a fight ahead of you, young man.” she looked at him a moment, then smiled “but to survive what you have, I think you’re up for it. Now, how does breakfast sound?”

Harry returned her smile shyly, and at the word “breakfast”, he swung his legs off the bed and stood, looking around for the pans and things.

“I’ll get right on it, Madam Pomfrey, just show me where-” he stopped and frowned as the Matron looked at him in shock, then started _laughing_!

“Oh, oh dear me. I’m so sorry Mr. Potter, I meant to ask if you would _like_ and breakfast? Are you hungry?”

Harry looked confused a moment, sitting back down on the edge of the bed he’d been lying in, and thought about it. Was he hungry?

Before he could say anything, his stomach answered for him, with a groaning gurgle. Madam Pomfry chuckled and nodded to herself.

“I think that’s a yes. You’re as fit as can be, so I think the full fry-up, eh? Need to get you fed properly, after all.” she snapped her fingers, and a short creature with brown wrinkly skin, knobbly elbows and batlike ears popped into the ward.

“How cans Topsy being of help, Madam Pomfrey?”

“Thank you Topsy, can you fetch Mr. Potter a breakfast tray, please?”

The being, whose name was apparently “Topsy”, looked around at the name and gave a squeak.

“Of course! Topsy being happy to serve Mister Harry Potter Sir! Topsy be right back!” and with another pop, she was gone. Madam Pomfry turned back to Harry, and had to fight not to burst into laughter again at his expression.

“That was a house-elf, dear. Hogwarts has dozens of them. They have very little magic of their own, so they bond to magical places, or sometimes families, and draw on their magic to survive. Helpful creatures, to be sure.”

Harry just nodded dumbly. It was all real then, or he’d really fully gone round the twist.

Nah, he wasn’t creative enough to come up with something like this.

And a moment later, it was proved conclusively as a tray with bacon rashers, beans, sausage, eggs and toast popped into being in front of him. Madam Pomfry bustled away and back, handing him several potion phials.

“A nutrient supplement, anti-nausea, and an appetite stimulant. Eat slow, and those will all help you keep it down where it belongs.”

Harry nodded again, drank each phial, then reached blindly for the goblet of some kind of juice to wash to taste from his mouth. _Blech_ , those were _awful!_ But as soon as they’d settled into his belly, he found himself very much ready to eat. Not ravenous, but certainly hungry enough to finish off the portion in front of him. He did so with gusto, chewing thoroughly to slow himself down so he didn’t override the anti-nausea potion, but focused solely on the food. Faster than one would think possible, Harry was using the last bite of toast to soak up the last bit of sauce from the beans, and drained the goblet of juice - _is that pumpkin? Whatever it is, it’s good…_ \- before settling back and patting his stomach with a sigh.

 _Is this what getting enough to eat feels like?_ He wondered as a lassitude came over him. He wasn’t sleepy, per se, but he definitely just wanted to bask in the morning for a bit before he did anything else.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too soon before the other woman from yesterday; _McGonagall,_ his memory supplied, came in and greeted him with a smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter. How are you feeling?”

Harry smiled back hesitantly, not able to meet her gaze for long before looking back at the floor.

“Al-alright, thanks. Full. Uhm...have you seen my clothes?” he looked back up, his cheeks flushing “I can’t seem to find them.”

Ms McGonagall smiled, and pulled a small bundle of things from her pocket.

“I forgot yesterday, Mr. Potter. I brought these things from your…. _relatives’_ house. Pick out the ones you want to wear today, and I’ll make sure they fit you properly.” with that, the bundle grew as she set it on the foot of the bed. Harry recognized Dudley's things, the newest ones he had. In fact, Harry hadn’t seen him wear these yet. Something about there not being any funny prints on them or something. Harry looked up at the woman _Professor? She teaches here, right? Better be safe_. And nodded

“Thank you, Professor McGonagall.” he muttered, grabbing whatever was on the top of the pile and stepping behind a nearby screen to change, then coming out to put on the socks and slip his feet into the oversized trainers. He felt a bit ridiculous in the massively oversized garments, but Professor McGonagall said she could fix that, so he just stood and waited for her to tell him what to do.

“Very good, Mr. Potter, hold still….” it was good she warned him, because otherwise he’d have jerked as the clothing began to shrink and shift, until it fit him as if it were tailored to. Or, tailored to what he would be once he put on some weight. Minerva flicked her wand, and a belt snaked out of the pile and slipped into the loops on Harry’s trousers, buckling to the middle hole and then shrinking until it too fit him as if tailored. 

“Some room for growth.” is all the Professor said, though she said it kindly, not at all terse like Aunt Petunia had. Harry gave another shy smile, and shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting.

“So, what now, Professor?” he asked softly, looking around.

“Now, if Poppy is ready to release you, we go to Gringotts, and Diagon Alley, to get your school things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves! Posting this on 6/24. 
> 
> First, THANK YOU ALL for all of your wonderful comments and kudos. I appreciate every one.
> 
> Second, I haven't fallen off a cliff and died. Just realized that I'd written myself into a corner and didn't leave myself enough time to accomplish all I wanted to before term started. To that end, I have made a very minor edit, said "Screw your timeline I made my own", and this is now all taking place _six_ weeks before the start of term. Chapter three is well underway in my GDoc, and should be up hopefully within the next few days here. I'm not committing to an update schedule yet because life is bathonk bananas cuckoo right now, so please be patient and watch your inboxes. I'm not abandoning anything!


	3. Gringotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets to Gringotts, and gets a few surprises as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Update: did a bit of tweaking based on some feedback, and cleaned up the verb tenses. Nothing major, so no need to re-read, but hopefully things make a bit more sense now.~~
> 
> UPDATE THE SECOND: 1) Still not dead! 2) Found a couple sections where I misnamed characters, and added a few hints of some things coming next chapter.
> 
> A/N: Hey! Thank you all SO MUCH for all your kind words and kudos. If I’ve missed your comment, I apologise. AO3’s notification system is wacky, but I read them as soon as I find them, and try to reply. We’re heading into Gringotts now, and this one’s going to take a while. I’m borrowing some of my favorite fanon tropes for the goblins, because I love the ornery little buggers so much, but I’m adding my own twist to them.
> 
> Also, this chapter doubles the size of the fic. I'm not sure if the next chapter will be as long, and I'm still not committing to a regular update schedule because Life is Life.
> 
> I’m trying to strike a good balance between a Harry powerful enough to undermine Dumbles’ machinations, and a Harry so OP there’s never a real threat. Let me know how you think I did in the comments!
> 
> See the end notes for more, but beware, thar be spoilers!

Madam Pomfrey was indeed prepared to release Harry that day, and once Professor McGonagall had let him actually read his acceptance letter, he felt the warm hum of magic around him shift ever so slightly.

“There.” Minerva said with a hint of finality “That should have settled you in as a ward of the school. There’s an enchantment in the letters, triggered when you read the welcome message. For most students, it lets Magic recognize the school and their Head of House, once they’re sorted, as standing _in loco parentis_ . In your case, it’s a bit more expansive, and it allows me to act as a temporary Magical Guardian from my role as Deputy Headmistress.” she explained all that as they walked through the halls of Hogwarts, Harry trying to remember all the turns, but being so distracted by the wonders around him that he was hopelessly lost within minutes. There were animated suits of armor, floating candles, _ghosts!_ , and moving portraits. The latter all murmured greetings to Minerva, and smiled at Harry, who mostly gave stunned nods in return.

“P-professor, wait, please? I know that going to this Gringotts place is important, but this is all a bit much to take in…” at Harry’s stammered request, Minerva had paused, then looked down at Harry in concern, her eyes widening as his words penetrated.

“Oh, my dear child. I apologise. I forgot how much this all must be, for someone not used to it. Hogwarts is my home, and I’m acclimated to her.” she squatted down so she was at eye level with the boy, a soft smile spreading over her features at his earnest expression.

“Let me explain more fully what we’re about to go do. Gringotts is Wizarding Britain's national bank. It is run by the Goblin Nation, an ancient race noble and powerful in their own right. Madam Pomfrey is the best human healer I’ve seen, but the goblins have magic and resources beyond ours. Plus, they can give you more information about your family, and any inheritance you might be entitled to. I know your father came from an Ancient and Noble wizard family, I’d be shocked if there weren’t a sizable vault left for you. Hogwarts could easily loan you school supplies, and provide your uniform and basic equipment, but this way we can try to get you more than the bare basics.” Harry was silent as he absorbed all this. Minerva watched his face, and felt her own pinch into a slight frown as she watched the child clearly have a swift internal debate. Slowly, hesitantly, he peeked up at her from behind his unruly bangs.

“I...I could choose what supplies I get?” the tone was one of almost disbelief, and Minerva’s heart broke a little at what that implied. It seems Severus was right, this child had never had choices about anything, and now seemed to not believe he deserved them. She used her fury at Albus and at the _animals_ that could do this to a _child_ to push back the heartache. She needed to prepare this child for term, in six short weeks, and do her best to undo whatever damage Albus had allowed to happen.

“Yes, Mr. Potter. Harry. There’s a list with your letter - I trust you brought it? Good - that details the minimum supplies. Generally we restrict muggle-raised first years to only the list so that they won’t waste money, but as I will be accompanying you, we can allow you a freer hand. The shops in Diagon know not to try and swindle me with cheap rubbish under an inflated price tag.” Harry blushed and looked down at his trainers, scuffing the toe.

“I’m sorry to be such a bother...I know you must have a lot to do....”

Minerva forced another smile, making sure her tone was extra gentle.

“Harry, this is one of my duties, as Deputy Head. It’s no trouble at all. Besides, I’m sure you have many questions about the wizarding world, and I can answer them. It’s alright if you can’t think of any now, but if someone confuses you or you need to know what a word means, please don’t hesitate to ask. I would rather answer a thousand questions now and have you avoid trouble, then have you hold even one back and get into a mess later because of it.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Harry muttered “Nothing comes to mind right now. Thank you for explaining everything so far.”

“You’re quite welcome, Mr. Potter. Now, come along, we’ve a lot to do today.” Minerva straightened and began striding down the hall again, making sure to keep to a pace Harry could match. _Circe bless, he’s so_ small _! I hope we can keep him taking enough food to grow out of that. Poor boy._

***

Harry wasn’t quite sure how he felt about all this. On the one hand, it most definitely wasn’t charity, and it seemed like the Professor was happy to escort him. On the other, this was so outside anything he’d ever experienced before. He was more used to criticism and pain than anyone caring for his well being, or even being _happy_ to be around him. It felt...odd. Good, but distinctly strange. He wasn’t sure how to react or what to say, so he was just sort of going with it all right now.

He followed the professor, having to take two steps for every one of hers, and tried not to stare at everything around him. Finally, a question did occur to him, after seeing what felt like the hundredth portrait do a double-take upon seeing him.

“Professor...why do the portraits all do that?”

Minerva glanced down at the boy, then at the portrait of one of the more notable teachers, whose name she’d misplaced. She caught him openly staring at Harry, and he had the good grace to blush and turn back to his writing desk.

“Ah….were you told nothing about your parents, Harry?” she questioned, and Harry looked down in shame.

“No, Professor” he mumbled at his trainers, still getting used to the feel of shoes that didn’t have massive holes in them. He could already feel the difference in how he was walking, he didn’t have to shift his weight around as much to try and keep it on the parts that hadn’t worn through.

Minerva stopped walking so abruptly Harry nearly ran into her, and was silent for long enough that Harry risked a glance upwards at her. He saw a barely repressed rage, and flinched before he realized it wasn’t being directed at him. That flinch seemed to snap Minerva out of it, because she shook herself like a cat, an all-over shiver, and then let that warm smile from earlier bloom over her features.

“I’m sorry, Harry. The story is one most of Wizarding Britain knows. You see, there was a very powerful Dark Wizard, named V-voldemort.” Minerva looked glad she only slightly stumbled over the name, but it quickly vanished into her usual demeanor as she carried on. “There was a prophecy, the Headmaster seemed to think it applied to either you, or another boy who I imagine you’ll meet once the term begins. Because of it, when you were only a year old, Voldemort tried to kill you. Your parents were in hiding, but were betrayed. He found you. He killed your father, then your mother, who was trying to protect you. When he cast the Killing Curse against you...it rebounded. Nobody knows why, and so you became the only person to survive the Curse, and simultaneously, the wizard who brought down Voldemort. Your name is quite famous, and some people call you the Boy-Who-Lived.” Minerva recited this all as if it were a lesson, no coloration to her tone at all, as if she were teaching a class a set of simple facts. Harry....actually kind of appreciated that. It let him make his own choice on how to feel about it. He looked down from her face, staring into the middle distance for a while, as he thought.

_Boy-who-lived. I...I don’t like that name. The Dursleys called me ‘Boy’ all the time, and even then it felt wrong. It could be because of the way they said it, but...no. Even when the Professor calls me Mr. Potter it just feels...off._

Harry’s face screwed up, and he shrank into himself, and he peeked up at Minerva again.

“P-Professor, I...I reckon you’re going to send me away. I think there’s been a terrible mistake, I really am a freak, just like the Dursley’s said. I...I know I’m a boy, my body is a boy’s body, I know the difference between boys and girls, and...I’m a boy but….but…” he trailed off into something unintelligible, and saw the heartbreak on Minerva’s face. _I knew it, I knew it I knewitIknewit. I’m no good, I’m a freak and they’re going to turn me out and I’ll have to go back to Privet Drive and this time I might just_ let _Uncle Vernon ki-_

“Harry!” Minerva’s sharp bark broke into Harry’s spiral of thoughts, and he snapped his head back as if he’d been struck, and then stared wide-eyed and panicked at the Professor.

“Harry, child, hush. It’s all right. We won’t send you away, and you most certainly are _not_ a freak. Now I am going to ask you some questions that will help both of us I think, understand what is happening here. There are no _wrong_ answers to these questions, even “I don’t know”. Just what feels right for you, do you understand?” Minerva waited until Harry nodded, then let her face relax into a patient smile, before looking around and spotting an empty classroom, ushering Harry inside. She conjured two armchairs and sat in one, motioning Harry to take the other.

“First, I want you to understand Harry, that whatever your... _relatives_ may have said, and however the Muggle world feels, the Wizarding World recognizes that sometimes the way one feels about oneself doesn’t match the body they were born in, and that this is perfectly alright, and not some moral failing or disease of the mind. Does that sound like what you feel? That you were born in the wrong body?”

Harry just stares at her, bewildered, and then looks down again to think, running a hand through his already chaotic hair. _I..._ is _that what I feel? Or...am I just making this all up in my head to avoid that stupid nickname? No...no. I didn’t even know that was an option, so why would I make it up?_ His thoughts whirled on for a few more minutes, too chaotic and scattered to really register as words, but they left behind a firm, unwavering conviction.

***

“Yes, Professor, that’s...that’s about right.” Minerva hears Harry say after a period of long deliberation. She only nods, and summons a house elf to ask for tea. It was early in the day yet, they had time, and she had no pressing need to be in the castle the next few days. Even if they ended up renting a room in the Leaky so they could get all Harry’s shopping done, it wasn’t a problem. This was a very important conversation to have, as if Harry decided on what she believed he was eventually going to, it could all be taken care of at Gringotts before term started.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Harry. Now, there are a lot of different ways that can make itself known. Do you feel more like a girl? Like neither? Does it change from time to time?”

She watched him go quiet and think again. Lord, this child’s _mind!_ If she could get him out of his shell, he’d be an absolute joy to teach. _Or she, or they, or whatever the decision is. Until that decision, though, I think better stick with ‘he’. It’s the most familiar to him._ She watched the expressions flickering across his face as he thought, and sipped the tea that had appeared on a cart next to her via house-elf. She poured a cup for Harry and passed it to him. He took it automatically, still thinking. Finally, he grimaced, and shook his head.

“What does it feel like, being a girl, Professor?”

Minerva nearly spit out her tea.

“I’m sorry?”

Harry ducked his head, looking sheepish.

“I...well...I don’t know how it feels to be anything but...well _Harry_ . How you do know if you’re a girl?” he looked up at her with the utter certainty that she would hold all the wisdom of the universe, the utter trust that a child has in any teacher who bothers to build it. _Oh bugger. Well, you’re in it now, Minerva! Don’t backpedal!_

“I...really have no frame of reference, Harry, I’m sorry. I’ve always felt comfortable in my own skin. Let’s look at it another way. If I were to call you ‘dear girl’, or ‘Miss Potter’, how does that feel?” Minerva silently congratulated herself on hitting that solution on-the-fly, with the mental dexterity that makes her such a skilled Transfigurationist. She was rewarded with another shy smile as the boy across from her took a sip of his tea.

“I...yes, Professor, I think I like those better. At least right now. Is it okay if that changes later?” Minerva almost melted at the uncertainty and hesitant tone. Good goddess how could Albus have let such a sweet child _suffer_ like he had with this one? _You know how, Minerva. He’s finally gone too far with his machinations and plotting. Voldemort be damned, the adults can act like bloody adults for once and_ not _place the fate of the wizarding effing world on an eleven year old!_

“All right, then, Miss Potter. Do you know what you’d like for a given name? Harriett would be the most obvious choice, but…”

The girl shook her head, and made a face.

“No, Professor, I don’t think so. Harriett always sounds like someone’s drunk aunt who keeps screeching at her husband. I...I do want to go with something close to Harry, though. It’s been my name for eleven years, and if I try to change to something too far off, I won’t remember it…” Minerva pursed her lips in thought, and murmured softly to her self.

“Harry…..harry….harry, carey, gerry, kaylee, haley-”

“Stop, Professor! That one! Haley!” She sounded so excited that Minerva couldn’t help but smile.

“All right then, Miss Haley Potter. Are you ready to go, now that we have that sorted out?”

Minerva was rewarded with a beaming smile and a nod as the girl hopped off her chair and drained her tea, setting it back on the cart.

“Yes, Professor. Thank you so much!”

The pair strode down the halls, through the Entrance Hall, and out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. As soon as they were at the gate, Minerva held out her arm, explained to Haley about side-along apparition, and they vanished with a crack.

***

Haley stumbled and gasped as they reappeared in front of a dilapidated-looking old pub. She did _NOT_ care for side-along apparition, at all.

“GOD that was horrible, Professor!”

She’d barely adjusted to the sideways _thunk_ her magic had given when the Professor had given her a new name. It felt like something settling in, and the hum she’d felt in Hogwarts had given a joyous burst. _I...think that was the castle welcoming me? I’m not sure…_ but then to go through _that_ , ugh. It felt like she was simultaneously being squeezed, and her head was being ripped open along her scar. Her forehead still tingled and she reached up to try to flatten her unruly hair over it, only to find out the usually wild mass had...settled? She had a dark fringe resting over her forehead that hid the jagged mark, and the straggly spikes that usually stood no matter how she’d tried to tame them were no lying flat, and hanging just to her jawline. She urgently tugged at Minerva’s sleeve

“Uhm, Professor?” her voice sounded distressed even to her “M-my _hair!”_

Minerva whirled, panic on her face for a moment, before she relaxed with a chuckle.

“Haley, Circe bless girl, you scared the life out of me. I thought I’d splinched you! I rather thought something like that might happen. Your magic, and I’d say Magic as a whole, is responding to your choice, dear. It happens sometimes, when people with a particularly powerful magical core make decisions like this. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the goblins already recognized your new name.” She straightens her hat, then marches into the pub, waving at the barkeeper.

“Minerva McGonagall! Why it’s been an age since ye been through this way. Stop an’ have a cuppa, eh?” the large man in an apron and linen shirt called, his face red and merry, looking every inch the merry old-world tavern keeper. The inside of the pub, which Haley saw briefly before going inside was called the _Leaky Cauldron_ , was very much like the descriptions of old-world taverns she’d heard, except for the pair of hags in the back playing knucklebones - with real knuckles - and the wizard sitting at the bar, stirring his tea without touching the spoon or twirling his finger, and reading _A Brief History of Time_.

 _Hm...wonder who he is...worth watching, anyway. Uncle Vernon had a copy of that on the shelf, not that he ever read it. Not that_ I _could, but it looked really advanced._

Haley’s mind filed that away. She was a lot smarter than she let on to her teachers, or even the Dursleys, since she got punished for getting better marks than Dudley on one report card, but cosmology and theoretical physics was rather advanced for even a precocious nine year old. She tuned back into what Professor McGonagall was saying.

“Ah, I can’t Tom. I’m afraid I have to take this young lady to Gringotts, a bit of confusion over her inheritance since she ended up muggle-raised. Another time, though, as it may take a day or two. Do you have rooms open, by the way?” Tom laughed good naturedly, and confirmed they did indeed have rooms available, and nothing but the best for her, and other such jovial small-talk. Startlingly quickly, Haley found herself led into the courtyard at the rear of the pub and saw Minerva pull her wand.

“Watch closely, Haley. Once you have your own wand, you’ll be able to do this yourself.” she instructed, then tapped the third brick to the left, above the lid of the rubbish bin. After the third tap, a bell-like tone sounded and the bricks began folding back until the mouth of a street appeared.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley, Miss Potter. Come along, we’ve much to do.” Haley followed Professor McGonagall automatically, but she was staring around and actually startled as she walked into the wall of sound that was Diagon Alley in full summer swing. All around, men and women in various styles of robes, hats, suits and dresses strolled, hurried, chattered, lounged and stood about. It was chaos, bright and loud and alive. It was everything the Dursleys hated, and it was _glorious_ ! Haley couldn’t get enough, trying to look everywhere at once and only getting glimpses. There was a shop that sold what looked like pets, with a songbird choir out front performing some jaunty tune, being conducted by a magpie. Next door was an apothecary with two cauldrons out front, pouring out multicolored mist. Across the street was the broom shop, an a pair of pretty witches were hovering a few feet over everyone’s heads, waving and occasionally taking off to perform some acrobatic stunts or simply zoom up and down the street, showing off the capabilities of their brooms, which looked to be the latest racing model from the shining display in the front window. Owls, ravens, and even the odd eagle or carrier pigeon flew through the air, messages and parcels gasped in their claws, mostly flowing to or from the post office two doors down from the broom store. In the center of the alley, in pride of place, was a _massive_ building of white marble, with gold lettering across the front that Haley could read from where she stood that said _Gringotts_. Professor McGonagall was walking briskly straight for it, deftly dodging and weaving through the crowd, though no few stepped aside for her when they saw who it was. Whether because they knew her from their own time at Hogwarts, or simply because she carried herself with effortless authority.

Haley scrambled to catch up, murmuring apologies to the people she jostled, until she drew even with the Professor, who glanced down at her and nodded, checking her stride to let her catch her breath. By the time they reached the door of Gringotts, Haley’s heart rate had calmed and she was able to pay attention to her surroundings again. She looked at the pair of small, brown-skinned creatures flanking the doors, wicked looking spears in their hands that positively _thrummed_ with magic to Haley. They were close enough to a description she’d read in a children’s book in the School Library, the one place she could effectively hide from Dudley’s gang at school that she tentatively labeled them “goblins” and made an absent mental note to ask the Professor for confirmation later. She blinked at them long enough that they took notice of her, and she shyly smiled and waved before heading inside. She didn’t see the subtle, incredulous look the guards shared, or the way one of them tapped a certain pattern on the stone beneath their feet with the butt of their spear. Ragnok would definitely want to know about _this_ client.

Inside the bank, Professor McGonagall had strode right up to a goblin at a desk. She spoke briefly to the Goblin there, who directed her to a counter to the left. She motioned for Haley to follow. Haley smiled and thanked the Goblin, who looked at her in surprise before nodding curtly and waving her away. Haley stepped up next to the Professor again, and the Goblin behind the counter looked down at her.

“Wand arm, please.” the creature asked brusquely, holding out a small hand. Haley stuck out her right arm, that being her dominant hand, and the goblin teller swiftly pricked her finger and pressed it to a copper plate. Before Haley could do more than start in surprise, the goblin had released her and she drew her and back to find the finger as whole as if it hadn;t been touched. _Interesting...wonder how that works? Healing spell built into the plate?_ She pushed the curiosity away for later. The Goblin looked at another plate in front of them which began taking on scratches of information. Their eyes widened again, and they quickly glanced to Haley.

“We will have to do a full blood test, to confirm this. Is your parent or magical guardian present?” the Goblin rasped, and Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

“I found this young lady being abused by her muggle relatives. I have made her a ward of Hogwarts, and as Deputy Headmistress I am acting as her magical guardian _Pro Tempore_ and standing _in loco parentis_ until a suitable permanent guardian can be located or the young lady reaches the age where she can sue for emancipation,” the Professor offered her wand arm, repeating the identification prick, “And yes. As of approximately 1030 this morning, Miss Potter decided on her new name, and unless I am very much mistaken, it has already been magically recognized.”

The goblin nodded and rang for a runner, speaking in what she assumed was rapid-fire Goblin. _Note to self, learn Goblin. Always know what the people who handle your money are doing._

The runner dashed off, and the teller waved them to a seating area.

“The Manager will be with you shortly. Please wait there.”

Haley took a seat next to the professor, and caught a glimpse of herself in a copper fitting. Her face was subtly different, less square, her cheekbones higher and her chin now coming to a delicate point. Her eyes seemed a bit larger as well, and her brows finer and less bushy. She startled again and reached up to touch her face, feeling the changes. Professor McGonagall glanced down at the quick motion, and leaned in to whisper to Haley.

“It’s all right, dear, that’s normal. I don’t think you’ll change too much more until we get the potions and spells in you, but when a change like this is recognized by your Magic, your core works to sort of...help it along. You look a little like your mother, but with enough of your father that you’ll probably draw comparisons from neither. Are you okay with this? I know some spells to stop it, and I daresay the Goblins know more.” her voice was kind, but calm in the way that implied this sort of thing was commonplace. Haley nodded, and then continued looking around the bank lobby, the fixtures and portraits depicting what Haley could only guess were important Goblins or moments of Goblin history. Interestingly enough, in most of them, the Goblins had wands as well as weapons. Haley slipped off the bench to examine one more closely, a bas relief mural depicting a battle between two groups, one of goblins and the other quite clearly humans, with one figure picked out in gold standing in the center, a ruby red beam coming from their wand and a sword shining silver raised to urge the figures behind them onward.

“Blordvak the Bloody, one of our greatest leaders. He led the 1645 rebellion, and nearly won it as well.” a voice said from beside her, and she side-stepped and pivoted to face the speaker in an instinctual move built by years of physical bullying. The goblin stood nearly as tall as she did, clearly a specimen of impressive size if the ones working in the bank lobby were a representative sample. They looked almost impressed a moment before a sneer that she supposed passed for a smile spread their features.

“You move well, for a human, Miss Potter. I am Ragnok, head of Clan Gringott. May your gold flow like the blood of your enemies.” the creature offered a fist clapped to their chest. Haley had no idea what the proper response was, but mirrored the salute.

“Haley Potter, Ragnok. I hope your business brings great profit.” if her words were a bit unsure, it was because she was entirely bluffing, picking up on clues from what the goblin said to approximate an appropriate reply. By the widening of the sneer-smile, she hoped she’d guessed right. She glanced at Professor McGonagall, who gave her an amused wink. She relaxed then, and folded her arms across her torso. “I didn’t expect the Head of the Bank, is there a problem?” Ragnok shook his head, motioning for Haley to follow.

“Not as such, Miss Potter, but we should speak in my office.” he indicated the Professor with a nod of his head “Your Guardian?” and at Haley’s nod, motioned Minerva to follow as well, then led them down a hallway into a large office with a desk and three chairs. Two were sized for humans, and the one behind the desk sized for Ragnok. He took that one and waved to the two across from him, then looked at Haley with a frown for a moment.

“Miss Potter, the blood identification spell at the teller’s counter turned up some inconsistencies. The most obvious being your gender, but that is simple to correct by confirming the pending update to our records, registered when your Magic shifted this morning. The larger issue is that you have a number of foreign influences on your core, the most egregious of which is hidden in that scar on your forehead. There are also several enchantments on you, and the information regarding your Guardian is...conflicting. I believe a full Inheritance Test is in order here, and if what I suspect is correct, then there have been several misdeeds in my bank that I will need to….correct.” the goblins frown became downright thunderous at that last statement, and Haley got the impression that said corrections would mean a very bad time for all involved. Professor McGonagall looked shocked when Haley glanced up, and then frowned herself, and looked down at Haley.

“I think we should follow Master Ragnok’s advice, Haley. I have suspicions of my own. I dearly hope they are wrong, but...well. Take the test, then we’ll talk.” Haley nodded at the Professor, then took a deep breath and looked back at Ragnok.

“What do I need to do?” she asked. Rather than answer, Ragnok barked a phrase in Goblin into a copper mouthpiece on his desk, and another goblin bustled in a moment later.

“This is Healer Reig. She will perform the test, and based on the findings, assist with anything else that might be needed.” the apparently female goblin offered her the same salute Ragnok had, and Haley returned it, then offered her wand arm when she saw the dagger on the cart the healer wheeled in. Reig grinned, showing lots of teeth, and remarked

“Oh, good, a smart one. Well, this will go fast, then. Seven drops for the parchment.” she quickly sliced one of Haley’s fingers, the blade so sharp that Haley barely felt it before her skin parted and blood flowed. She let the seven drops fall on the parchment, then moved her hand over the small bowl beside it. The Healer nodded in approval and let another several drops fall into the bowl, and then healed the wound by touching it.

“That’s for the quill, for later. Anything remaining will be destroyed in front of you before you leave the bank.” the healer looked at Haley, even as words started appearing on the parchment “Remember, young witch, _never_ give your blood, hair, skin, saliva or any other part of yourself to someone you do not trust with your life, and even then, only with a contract in place saying exactly what is to be done with it. Gringotts charter covers this already, but anywhere else, be cautious.” Haley nodded at the solemn reminder, and the healer grinned again, until she looked down at the parchment, which was now filled with writing. She let fly a string of rapid-fire Goblin that made Ragnok pale in shock, then bustle over, where he repeated the performance. He snapped a few orders, and Reig sprinted from the room, shouting for an assistant and a room to be prepared.

Still quivering in rage, Ragnok shoved the paper at Haley, who nodded at Minerva and shifted in her seat so the Professor could read over her shoulder.

Inheritance Report: Harry (name change: Haley, pending confirmation) Potter

Inherited Vaults:

0004 Godric Grypsudor, Head pending Confirmation (via Evans-Black)

0005 Salazar de Slizarse, Head pending Confirmation (via Peverell)

0006 Helga Hugðilepuf, Head pending Confirmation (via Peverell)

0007 Rowena Hrabanklaw, Head pending Confirmation (via Evans-Black)

0128 Potter Heir Vault: galleons, books, letters (sealed by Albus Dumbledore)

0100 Most Noble and Ancient Potter Family Vault: Galleons, Books, letters, artifacts, properties (sealed until Majority or Emancipation)

0112 Black Heir Vault: Gallions, books, letters (sealed by Albus Dumbledore)

0102 Noble and Ancient Black Family Vault: Galleons, books, letters, artifacts, properties (Sealed until majority, Sealed by Albus Dumbledore)

Bequeathed Vaults:

Smith Vault: Letters, money

Jones Vault: Letters, books

Donation Vault: from various sources, money, books, letters

Other Vaults:

Potter Allowance Vault (established by Albus Dumbledore, funded from Heir Vault 100/Galleons a year)

Magical Guardian: Minerval McGonagall via Hogwarts Ward (pro-tem). Albus Dumbledore claim attempted October 1981, failed. Sirius Orion Black (godfather) via Potter will, on hold due to incarceration.

Enchantments on Magical Core:

Soul Shard (October 1981 - contained due to Blood Protection, immediate removal suggested)

Trust, loyalty, blind faith: Albus Dumbledore, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts, Order of the Pheonix (partially broken by Core Shift)

Distrust, hatred: Slytherin House, Malfoy Family, (see list of suspected death eaters).

Personality changes: depression, rage, seek danger with no regard for safety, protect others with no regard for self preservation, self-hatred. (partially broken due to core shift)

Drain: Magical Core (to Albus Dumbledore, applied Oct. 1981, partially broken by Core Shift)

  
  


Blocks:

Animagus Form: 70% (applied Oct 1981)

Magical Core: 45% (applied Oct 1981 at 75%, partially broken by Core Shift)

Magic Sense: 75% (applied Oct 1981)

Patronus Charm: 45% (applied Oct 1981, inhibits ability to channel joy)

All Enchantments except Soul Shard and all Blocks performed by Albus Dumbledore.

REPORT ENDS

Haley stared at the words, and felt a burning rage rise in her. Whoever this Albus Dumbledore was, she wanted his head. From the shaking she could see out of the corner of her eye, so did Minerva. She snapped a burning gaze up to Ragnok, and her voice was iron and fire as she spoke.

“Clear them. All of them. Start an audit of all of the vaults that I can order. Anything Dumbledor has _stolen_ from them, I want returned, including money. I assume I can unseal any of the vaults that don’t require age of majority, with the consent of my Guardian?” Ragnok nods, a vicious smile spreading across his face. Haley snapped her gaze to Minerva, who simply nodded, her mouth a thin line. Haley turned back to Ragnok “Please do so, Master Ragnok. Use whatever means necessary to regain my property, and while you do not need my permission, I fully support whatever measures you take against whoever assisted this _thief_.” she looked back down at the report “These first four vaults, who are they?” Minerva cleared her throat and answered.

“Those are the names of the four Founders of Hogwarts, in their native tongues, according to the old spellings. It appears that once you are confirmed, you will inherit their property.” Minerva looked at Ragnok “Does that include the Castle?” the goblin nodded.

“It does,” he looked at Haley “though only if you are confirmed for all four Houses. But first, you must be cleansed of all blocks and enchantments, and your new identity confirmed. Then we can do the rituals to test the Houses and see if they accept you. Healer Reige also noted some health issues before she left that…” Ragnok here looked uncomfortable “generally the Goblin Nation does not involve itself in wizard _or_ muggle affairs, but we will happily provide records to any sort of legal proceedings, should you pursue them. And I dearly hope these... _people_ ” he sneered the world like it was an insult “are made to suffer. No child should be treated that way.” Haley looked a bit surprised at that, but the fire of her rage pushed most of it aside as she nodded once, sharply.

“Thank you, Master Ragnok. How long will the cleansing and confirmation take?” Haley asked, settling back into her chair, marvelling at how much the anger was helping her right now. Before, when she got mad, it was all hot, chaotic. She couldn’t think, but now, while she felt the fire boiling in her gut, it sharpened her mind, focused her, let her thoughts run at incredible speed while remaining sharp and clear. _I wonder if some of that was the damned enchantment. If shifting my Core broke through, that might be why._ Haley looked up at Professor McGonagall then, saw the seething rage on her face, and put a hand on her arm. The Professor shook herself, looked down at Haley with a tiny smile, and nodded before returning her attention to Ragnok.

“Three days, to do it all at once. Two of those will be recovery and adjustment.” Ragnok answered promptly. Haley nodded.

“Will I have enough in my Heir Vaults to cover a room here in Diagon?”

“Easily, Miss Potter. The Potter and Black fortunes are...vast, the Heir Vaults alone put you in league with the Malfoys, largely recognized by wizards as one of the wealthiest Houses.” Ragnok supplied, and Haley nodded again.

“Let’s make unsealing those a priority, then.” she turned to Minerva “Professor, I need your help. If Dumbledore did this once, he can do it again, especially if,” she paused then, and looked down at her body “no, _when_ he notices I am not the starved, frightened, depressed little boy he expected to find come September. We have six weeks to prepare. Let’s use them.” Minerva nodded, and asked Ragnok for parchment and quill, which he provided gladly. She began making a list of things they could do to protect Haley from further enchantment, though part way through she paused.

“Dumbledore is an accomplished Legilimens. We shall have to teach you Occlumency, or at very least acquire an Occluding Charm.” Minerva mentioned, before going back to writing. Ragnok cleared his throat.

“I suggest you wait until after we check your vaults, there may be something in them that will do. Or, failing that, we can have our Curse Breakers enchant a piece of mundane jewelry, for a reasonable fee.” Haley nodded her assent just as the Healer returned.

“We are ready for Miss Potter in Room 1, Chief. Miss Potter, Professor, if you would follow me, please?” Reig motioned for the witches to come with her, and led them down yet another corridor, deep into the bowels of the bank. They entered a stone chamber with an altar in the center. Grooves ran through the floor of the room and up onto the stone platform, currently packed with salt and herbs. Candles sat at intervals around the room, and three other goblins were placed on each of the cardinal directions, except North, where Reig took her place.

“Miss Potter, please lie on the Altar. Professor, please stand outside the circle.” the two witches took their directed places, and as soon as Haley had settled on the platform, she felt her limbs freeze in place. At her shocked exclamation, Reig barked “Peace! The cleansing can be painful, especially with a Soul Shard involved. Horcruxes can fight. The sticking charm makes sure you don’t fall off the platform and hurt yourself. Now, we need more of your blood for this, do not be alarmed.” Reig made two slashing motions with her hands, and Haley’s forearms opened, blood seeping into the grooves and quickly getting absorbed by the salt. Far faster than she was actually bleeding, the red flew through the grooves in opposing lines, and when they joined at Reig’s feet, she reversed her slashing motion and the wounds closed. Haley felt a bit faint from the bloodloss, but took a deep breath to try to calm her pounding heart. She closed her eyes, and at three barked words from Reig, felt heat as the grooves burst into scarlet flame. Her back arched, and she screamed as it felt like the fire was pulsing through her veins. Her scar, _her scar, oh god HER HEAD WAS SPLITTING APART_!

There was a great ripping sensation, and then as suddenly as the pain started, it stopped, and Haley collapsed against the platform, panting. She opened her eyes, and encased in a sphere of translucent scarlet was a dark wisp, thrashing about and trying to push free.

“Wh-wha?” She rasped, her throat sore from screaming.

“That is a Horcrux, or Soul Shard. Some of the most vile magic there is. I suspect this is what actually happened to Voldemort. He meant to blast your magical core out and put a piece of himself in its place. That is...very much not how that magic works. It also appears that your mother cast a Final Spell. Powerful magic, fueled by the caster’s own death. Normally, it’s used as a parting strike, a way to get revenge on the magician who strikes the killing blow. It appears your mother used it to protect you. The rebounded Killing Curse was weakened, not enough to truly destroy him, but discorporate him certainly. I suspect he has others as well.” Reig rattled this all off in a distracted voice, as the other healers chanted. Slowly, the scarlet sphere shrank, until it vanished in a silent explosion.

Haley was still breathing heavily, the pain lingering in her body from the shard’s removal. Reig began speaking again.

“Next, Miss Potter, we will remove the blocks and enchantments. This will not be comfortable either, but it should not be as bad as the Shard.”

Again, Haley closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, and again her body went rigid as the scarlet fire washed over her, but she clamped her jaw and kept from crying out this time. The pain was no worse than one of Dudley’s beatings, and thankfully unaccompanied by any of the snaps and pops that indicated broken bones. She could endure this.

After what felt like hours but was probably closer to forty-five minutes, the pain stopped. The flames vanished, and Haley felt her limbs unstick. She took a few deep breaths, then slowly, rolled to her side and sat up on the edge of the platform. Her clothes were plastered to her body with sweat, and she felt light-headed and weak, but _settled_ in a way she didn’t before. The magic around her was sharper, no longer a buzzing in the back of her head but a glorious chorus of interweaving sounds and melodies. It felt warm and safe. She opened her eyes and looked at Minerva, and noted that her perspective was slightly different. She looked down to see that she’d actually grown a few inches, and her body was more slender and lithe than before. She’d likely always be short compared to her peers, but she was no longer as exceptionally _tiny_. She slowly slid off the altar and steadied herself with it, and once she was assured her knees wouldn’t collapse under her, she walked slowly over to Professor McGonagall. The older witch smiled down at her, and wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders to support her.

“I think we’ll go see Master Ragnok about your accounts, and then see about food and a room. You need to rest.” The Professor said softly. Haley nodded, then turned to Reig and the rest, and bowed with her fist clamped over her heart. She had no idea if it was proper, but she felt a nudge against her mind, and decided to go with it for now. Thinking took too much energy. She held it for a moment, and when she straightened, her words were simple but earnest. Again, she had no idea if they were correct, but they _felt_ right.

“My thanks, Healer Reig, Master Goblins. May your gold ever flow.” her voice came out in a rasp again, but they simply saluted her and turned back to the work of cleaning up the space. Reig walked them back to Ragnok’s office, where Haley gladly sank into a chair after a quick drying charm from Minerva. It left her feeling itchy, but she was grateful she wouldn’t stain the fine leather.

Ragnok looked her over, and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Heir Potter. The Bank Wards have already confirmed your identity change, and any vaults sealed by Dumbledore have been opened to you. Would you like to see them now?” Haley shook her head, clearing her own throat and gratefully accepting the cool water Minerva passed her. She hadn’t noticed it when she walked in.

“No, thank you Master Ragnok. I need to recover, first, and I trust that Gringotts has already corrected any oversight that led to my accounts being mismanaged. I will take a full accounting and do an inspection of what I can access tomorrow. Today, I need money for lodgings and a meal. I would prefer not to carry large amounts on my person, is there a way to accomplish this?” Ragnok grunted and gave Haley a sharp look before he pulled a pouch from his desk.

“This has been linked to your vaults. A drop of your blood will bind it to you, touch the rune on the front and it will be extracted and healed. Think of the amount you wish and it will come to you. It’s set to draw from your Potter heir vault first, but if you wish to withdraw from another, as long as it is unsealed, concentrate on the name as well as the amount and it will happen. Do you wish to return the amount in the allowance vault to your main Heir vault?” Haley nodded again, and reached out to take the pouch, pressing her finger to the rune, watched it flash yellow, and disappear.

“Yes, thank you. Please deduct the costs of the tests, cleansing, healing and this pouch from there as well.” she said, but Ragnok waved her off.

“You are one of Gringotts’ most valuable clients, Heir Potter. These services the Bank will consider an investment in future business. From here on out, however, there will be costs.” Haley was tired of nodding.

“Thank you, Master Ragnok. I understand. Gringotts has been most generous.” She stood again, slowly, and waited for Minerva to join her “May your gold flow, and your enemies regret your ire.” she improvised before she saluted, and turned to make her way slowly out of the bank. She was not surprised to see that it was now edging on towards evening, and she looked to Minerva, entirely unaware of how the older witch was watching her from the corner of her eye.

“I’m not up for noise and attention tonight, Professor...I assume the _Leaky_ would draw plenty of both. Do you know a quieter place to stay?” her voice sounded odd, even if it wasn’t scratchy anymore, and she realized it too was shifting to match her new body. Well, that was all to the good. The further she distanced herself from her old identity the better as far as she was concerned. If being the “Boy-Who-Lived” meant dealing with scheming old men and people putting pieces of their _soul_ in her, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

All that flashed through her head in a moment as Minerva led them to a quieter side-street off the main road, this one being labeled as Vertic Alley. It seemed to be home to a collection of bed and breakfasts, inns, and bachelor flats. Minerva went into the door of one called the “Bluebell Lodge” and got them a room with two beds for the next two nights. Haley had no idea how the price compared to others, but considering she handed over more than one large golden coin, she guessed it was a cut above. She dully listened to the proprietor explain that breakfast was at six, and dinner could be taken in the main dining room at seven, or as a tray in their rooms after seven-thirty. The Professor set it up to have their trays delivered, took the two keys, handed one to Haley and led the exhausted witch up to their room. Haley stood next to her bed, stared at it for a moment, then looked to Minerva.

“Professor? I don’t have any bedclothes...and these _really_ need to be cleaned.” she just stared into the middle-distance, then felt a charm sweeping over her as her clothes shed the dirt of the day and felt as soft as if they just came from the laundry. Then they shifted and became a night-dress. She blinked down at herself a moment, then smiled at the Professor and used her toes to push off her trainers, which she left just a tiny bit loose for exactly that purpose. She stripped off her socks, then slid into the soft bed with fresh linens, and was out before the Professor could even say anything more. She roused briefly to shovel dinner in her mouth, barely registered that it was some sort of chicken, then went right back to bed, with a half-asleep thanks to the Professor.

***

Minerva was, though she thought it impossible, even angrier with Albus than before. At this point, she didn’t know how she was remaining sane.

That was a lie, she knew exactly how. She was letting the emotion go to help out the young girl that fate had dropped into her lap. She wasn’t going to _forget_ how angry she was, oh no. Absolutely not. Nor would she let this utter farcial disaster of a Stewardship by Albus go unchallenged. But being so angry she was on the verge of taking the ancestral sword from her office wall and putting it through Albus, repeatedly, was neither productive nor particularly what Haley needed right now. While the girl slept through the early evening, Minerva worked out ways to keep Albus from re-enchanting the girl. She may be a transfiguration specialist, but as the Deputy Headmistress she was something of a magical polymath, skilled in all aspects of magic taught at Hogwarts. Usually she didn’t tread on the others’ disciplines, but this was a very exceptional case. She’d apologise to Filius later. She made a list of the charms and enchantments she would need, and the best order to apply them in, as well as a list of materials that would work best for all she would need to pump into it. The best, of course, would be goblin-forged silver. Barring that, she’d work with any attuned metal in one of Haley’s vaults.

Minerva lost track of time, and soon the desk girl was bringing their trays around. Minerva roused Haley enough for her to eat, though she wasn’t better than half awake, and probably barely tasted the rather excellent roast chicken, potatoes and green beans that had been provided. Minerva steadily ate her way through her portion, then thoroughly warded their room before she conjured her own nightgown and cap and slipped into bed. She snuffed the lamps with a wave of her wand. It had been a long day, and tomorrow was looking to be a full one as well. She’d need the rest.

***

Haley woke at sunrise, as was her habit, and thanks to the solid 13 hours of sleep and good dinner, for once felt well rested. She stretched and looked around, noted that Minerva was still asleep. Haley decided the Professor deserved a bit of a lie-in, so she quietly took one of the chairs in the room, moved it right next to the window and opened it only a crack to let the thin beam of grey dawn light play across her face, and the crisp, slightly damp smell of the fresh air fill her nostrils. She’d never gotten to truly enjoy a dawn like this, always having to cook breakfast. The closest she got was in high summer, when she had to weed the garden in the morning, because Aunt Petunia hadn’t trusted her to do it without her watching like a hawk, and she refused to be out in the heat of the day. But it’s hard to enjoy _anything_ with Petunia Dursley standing over you, snapping at you to hurry up. She completely lost track of how long she sat there, as she just watched the world wake up, until she heard Minerva stir. She let the curtain fall, but stayed in her chair by the window.

“Nnng....Haley? What time is it? _Tempus_.” floating golden numbers appeared in front of the Professor that showed that the time was just after seven. Minerva took a deep breath and forced her eyes the rest of the way open. She sat up in bed, and with a wave of her wand, the curtains opened, flooding the room with early morning sunlight. Haley stood up and flung the windows wide to let the cool morning air in as well. Those in combination seemed to help wake the Professor up, as she soon slid out from under the blankets and behind a privacy screen. She emerged a moment later in the same clothing she wore yesterday, her usual green twill under a robe. She looked at Haley, who blinked back at her from behind her spectacles.

“Trousers, or a dress?” she asked, which took Haley by surprise.

“Uh….dress?” Haley responded as a snap decision. Minerva only nodded and waved her wand, and the nightgown changed into a neat little dress. The extra fabric turned into a short jacket with long sleeves, all in a warm yellow. Minerva then cast another cleaning and refreshing charm on the clothing, then had Haley put her socks on before she transfigured them into a pair of white nylon knickers. The trainers she left alone. Haley looked at herself in the room mirror, and broke into a beaming smile, then threw herself at Minerva with a squeal of joy.

“Thankyou, thankyou, THANK YOU!!” she shouted in joy, but then her eyes went big and she released the Professor and stepped back to look down with a blush “Uh...sorry…. Professor.” Minerva used a gentle hand to tilt Haley’s chin back up, and smiled into the girl's green eyes.

“It’s quite all right, Miss Potter. But perhaps try to keep it to a squeal rather than a shriek, hm?” Haley blushed a bit more, and nodded then straightened her dress and stepped back again.

“Yes, Professor. I think I smell tea, shall we?” As soon as Haley said ‘tea’, Minerva was at the door and through it, with a giggling Haley following in her wake. Adults were so _weird_ about their caffeine.

After Haley and Minerva ate, the Professor pressed seconds on the girl and conjured a few nutrient potions from the stores at Hogwarts to supplement, they stepped out onto Vertic and strolled into a Diagon alley just waking for the day. A few cafés were already open, people getting coffees and pastry before going to work. Gringotts, of course, never closed. A different goblin greeted them at the reception desk, but they were waved straight through to Ragnok’s office without having to go to a teller first.

Haley followed Minerva, still looking around at the various goblin artworks, fascinated by the hints of culture she picked up from them. She was noticing more now, picking up subtle details and making connections she never would have before. _Probably because it’s just me in my head now._ As they entered Ragnok’s office after a swift knock from Minerva, Haley gave the salute she copied yesterday, which made the goblin actually _chuckle_.

“So rare to meet a Wizard who knows their manners. Welcome back, Heir Potter. We have completed an inventory of all accessible vaults, and retrieval of missing property has begun. Several items we were able to summon back with Gringotts’ magic, but several are either destroyed, or hidden under very powerful spells. These we will be sending Goblins after in person, to the last known locations. Interestingly, there was an invisibility cloak left specifically to you in your father’s will that Dumbledore had in his possession. It is in your Potter Heir vault now. In the Black Heir vault we found a commission slip from Quality Quidditch Supplies for their latest model of broom, dated to be delivered to you at Christmas of this year. Apparently your Godfather arranged it the day after you were born. If you choose, you can redeem it early while you do your shopping today. We have also upgraded your pouch, given some of the nature of these items, so that you may store them securely here at Gringotts, and call them to you as needed. In return, there are a number of Goblin-made items in these vaults. A list here.” Haley took the paper he handed her, and glanced over it. One item in particular caught her eye. _Black silk choker with goblin silver pendant in the shape of an elongated star._ She looked up at Ragnok.

“I see no problem returning these items to the Goblin Nation, however, may I purchase one back? This,” she pointed to the choker “seems like a good candidate to enchant with the protections I am to wear. If we mount an emerald in the center of the star, I can claim it was an heirloom from my mother, which would give me an excuse to wear it or have it nearby constantly.”

Ragnok looked at the item in question, then barked an order into his copper mouthpiece to have it brought to his office. A few moments later, a runner brought it in, nestled on a cloth of raw silk. Ragnok put a jewelers loupe into his eye, and inspected the piece, which had an empty setting already.

“Hm. This is not an especially significant piece, nor does it hold any enchantments beyond those inherent to all Goblin Silver. I will allow it’s sale, provided you place a clause in your will that returns it to the Goblin Nation upon your death. With the jewel mounted, and all enchantments placed, it will cost a thousand galleons.” Ragnok stated with finality, looking disgruntled when Haley held up a hand.

“I am almost certain there has to be a jade of suitable size, or one that can be cut, in one of my vaults. If I were to have one of those cut and mounted?” Haley put on a brave face for this. It was a risk, pushing the Bank Chief when he’d stated a flat price, but it was a gamble that paid off as the sneer-grin appeared.

“You think like a Goblin, Heir Potter. And you are correct, the Black heir vault has a great many cut and uncut gems. Very well, using one of your own stones brings the price down to seven hundred forty two galleons, thirteen sickles and five knuts. Is that acceptable?” Haley nodded and issued instruction to draw the cost from the Black vault as well.

After that, they spent the rest of the morning looking over the contents of the family vaults she already had (or would have on majority or emancipation) access to. While she couldn’t draw anything from the main Potter or Black family vaults, as Heir and only executor, she was able to trim investments at Ragnok’s advice, and issue orders to bring all properties and houses into liveable conditions, and resume maintenance of any household staff that had stagnated. This also included a few house-elves, much to her surprise. She learned this when she issued the orders, and felt a few pulls on her magic.

“Ragnok, something is pulling on my core.” She said, a slight panic in her tone. Ragnok simply nodded, and pointed to one of her accounting lists that had a section labeled _Vassals_ , and a list of cutesy names and what House or property they belonged to.

“House elves bond to draw on the family magic. Usually it’s not noticeable, since it’s spready between all family members, but as the sole heir of so many, it’s more pronounced. It shouldn’t affect development any, and you’ve a more powerful than normal magical core anyway.” he explained “At some point you will have to call them all to you and bond more properly, but not until after your first Magical Development at age 14. Bonding before that can harm both you and the elves. For now, they’ll draw enough to keep themselves healthy, and no more.” Haley nodded, and then started looking over lists of items and amounts in each vault, except the four Founder Vaults. That carried them to mid-day, and a hearty lunch taken at a café across from Gringotts. Then Haley returned, and the Professor went off with Gringotts curse breakers to discuss the enchantments for Haley’s choker. Haley went with Ragnok to another ritual room, and this time was led through a much more elaborate but infinitely less painful ritual to test herself for the four Founder vaults.

The most arduous step was the setup for the ritual, which was actually four different ones that would be performed simultaneously, in a stroke of brilliance that Ragnok took great pride in coming up with. Getting the right order and timing for all the various parts was tricky, but they developed a formula, and Haley performed all her parts to a prearranged signal.

Finally, as she spoke the last words - in Old Norse, not an easy tongue for a British pre-teen from Surrey - a bell-tone sounded and from the altar at the center of the room, four shades rose. She was ready for this, and knew that each would test her, based on the principles that each Founder held most dear in life. She’d been given brief biographies of all of them as part of the setup, as well as the values supposedly upheld by each of their Houses at Hogwarts.

First was a large man, with wild red hair pulled into a ponytail, a sword held high. He fit the description for Godric Gryffindor, and Haley immediately stepped between the shade and the Goblins, flinging her arms wide and planting her feet to protect them. She knew Godric valued bravery, strength, and honor. The shade swung, and halted it’s spectral blade bare centimeters from Haley’s unprotected throat.

 _“As expected of my Heir. You show bravery, loyalty, and heart. But do not forget, that cunning is needed as well, to keep all those you seek to protect safe. I recognize you, Brave Little Lion.”_ and that shade vanished. Next rose up a man with sleek black hair and olive skin. Salazar Slytherin, a renowned brewer and one who valued cunning, quick-thinking, and inventiveness. He blew a powder from his hand, and Haley used her jacket to sweep it aside and fan it from the air, taking care that none of it got on her or the Goblins in the room.

 _“As expected of my Heir. Resourcefulness, caution, and quick thought will serve you well. I recognize you, Cunning Little Serpent.”_ And the second shade vanished. In his place, a blond-haired woman rose, and with her four blades, each pointed at a Goblin’s throat. Haley stood her ground, staring at the woman. Helga Hufflepuff was a Viking, a fact often overlooked in wizard histories, but remembered well by the Goblins, who respected another warrior culture.

 _“Leave this room, young witch, and I will spare you. You are not fit to be my Heir, and these four must die for their impudence. But you are young, and misguided. Leave them, and you will live.”_ Haley planted her hands on her hips, keeping her eyes fixed on the shade.

“Then I will die with them, for they are my comrades, and to leave them to die would be to kill my honor.” Her words were rewarded with a smile, and the blades vanished.

 _“As expected of my Heir. Loyalty and Bravery, Cunning, and WIt. All are welcome in my House, and all are comrades that choose to call themselves such. I recognize you, Determined Little Badger.”_ And that shade disappeared, leaving only one left. A small woman, with hair the same raven’s wing shade as Haley’s.

 _“Tell me, young witch, what knowledge is good for?”_ the shade asked. Haley folded her arms, and thought a few moments, knowing that this was Rowena Ravenclaw’s test, and thus a riddle. Rowena valued intelligence, and had a passion for riddles and games in life.

“Knowledge without understanding is not good for much. One must think about what one knows, and how they know it, to possess true wit.” Haley finally answered, and the same bell like tone sounded again, and the other three shades once again rose.

 _“As expected of my Heir. Never seek knowledge for the knowing, but to understand the world around you.”_ Rowena said, before the four shades then spoke in unison.

 _“HogéwaÞ once again has a Keeper. Let no Wizard harm them. Let the Castle protect them. So mote it be.”_ and with a crack, they vanished. From the general direction of Hogwarts, Haley felt an enormous burst of power, and knew that something had just shifted. She hoped it wasn’t anything too dramatic or noticeable. _That bit about the Castle protecting me...I wonder if that will also help keep Dumbledore from spelling me again...we’ll find out, I suspect._

Haley walked out of the ritual room this time feeling invigorated rather than drained, and grinned brightly when MInerva handed her the completed choker. She put it on immediately, feeling the pendant settle in the hollow of her throat, and then bowed to all the Goblins gathered.

“I will not forget the aid the Goblin Nation has given me. Master Ragnok, I will leave you to your dealings, and may they bring you showers of gold. Please keep me updated on the audits and retrievals. We can add the Founders Vaults to them now.” Ragnok’s jaw dropped, but he nodded, and then shook himself, snapping out orders in the Goblin tongue that Haley roughly understood as ‘well?! Get back to work!’, despite not speaking a word of the language. Some things were just universal.

***

The revelation that Haley had been confirmed by all four Founders vaults came as something of a surprise to Minerva, but was of lesser importance than the fact that they still had to get Haley’s supplies for the coming term, and do a great deal of cultural acclimation. Haley was now Heir to not one but _six_ noble houses. This came with tremendous power, but she would have to learn and learn _quickly_ the ways she could use it, and the ways people would try to use her _for_ it. And there was also the minor matter of completing her gender affirmation. _Circe bless...well this week has certainly_ not _gone according to plan! As soon as we can get back to the Castle and I can hand Haley off to Pomona or FIlius I am barricading myself in my quarters with some scotch! I’ll even consider Severus. She’s sweet, and utterly charming, but I need a break from earth-shattering revelations for a while!_

_***_

Their first stop was Ollivanders, as it was _far_ past time for Haley to get a wand. As soon as the door opened, Gerrick Olivander himself came bustling up from the back.

“Minerva McGonagall! Well! Not often do you grace my shop! I still remember your wand, however. Nine and half, fir, slightly springy with a dragon heart-string. Yes, yes, perfect for a Transfiguration Master like yourself. Hmmm, now who do we have here?” he looked Haley over, and shook his head a bit.

“Hmmm….curious. Most curious. I think if you’d walked in my shop just two days ago, we’d be having a different conversation. But! Never mind that now. Wand arm please, Miss Potter.” Minerva watched as Haley stuck out her wand arm, and Gerrick’s enchanted measuring tape took all sorts of measurements to cover for Gerrick using his Maker’s Sight to scan Haley’s core.

“Oh….you will be a tough one. Let’s see, let’s see…..try this.” and the circus was in full swing. Haleywas handed wand after wand, some of them not responding at all, others responding violently. One produced an actual explosion.

“Not to worry, not to worry, happens all the time...and we’re not giving up yet!” Ollivander bustled behind the counter and pulled out a tray of wands, hovering his hand above them for a few moments, then picking up one in particular. It was a peculiar design, thinner than most wands, flattened on two sides toward the tip, coming back in a lazy spiral to the back, which was no thicker than Minerva’s pinky. As soon as Haley touched it, it shot gold stars, and practically leapt into her hand. She held it like one would a pen, but resting between her middle and forefinger, the back laid across the knuckle of her thumb. An unconventional style, but very much suited to the wand.

“Yes, YES! Perfect. Ebony, 12 inches, with a slight give. Thunderbird talon shavings and unicorn horn. This is a wand that will protect its bearer no matter what. That will be seven galleons, Miss Potter, and as a thank-you for such an entertaining afternoon, I will include a wand holster with retrieval and anti-summoning charms.” He showed her how to put the holster on so that it hid under the sleeve of her jacket, and how to flick her wrist so it dropped the wand into her hand. After that they left the shop, and went to Madame Malkins’ for Haley’s new outfits.

“Hogwarts, dear?” a cheery witch with curly grey hair called as soon as they entered. “OH! Professor! Hello, hello...escorting a student today, hm? Well, now, up you get dearie.” Minerva nodded at Haley at the look from the younger girl. She stepped onto a fitting platform and held out both her arms as another enchanted measuring tape began taking her sizes. A platinum blond boy stood next to her.

“Hogwarts too? I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy.” he introduced himself, affecting an air that he probably thought was refined, but ended up sounding snotty.

“Haley, Haley Potter.” Haley introduced herself, and Draco looked sharply at her.

“A pleasure, Miss Potter. You came with a Professor? Where are your parents?” The dig for information was far from subtle, but Haley kept herself from rolling her eyes.

“Dead. I was raised by my horrible muggle relatives until the Professor found me. I’m...a bit overwhelmed by all this. I wasn’t told anything, you see, until I got my letter.” she explained politely. Better to not make enemies before the year even starts, after all.

“Oh...I’m sorry. They were our sort, though, right? Your parents? Father says we shouldn’t let the other sort in.” Draco declared firmly, and this time Haley couldn’t help the eye roll.

“Do you hear yourself when you talk? If someone’s got magic, it shouldn’t matter who their parents were. Magic is...is….is like music. It’s stupid to think someone plays the flute really well just because their parents did, and it’s stupid to dismiss a really good musician just because their parents can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” Haley countered, and Draco flushed, then really _looked_ at the witch next to him. She radiated power, and despite her odd accent and way of talking, held herself like she belonged in the shop. And Potter was an old, and very famous name. Father would probably be cross if Draco alienated such an important family.

“I suppose…” Draco said noncommittal, then went quiet, for which Haley was immensely grateful. She ignored the glances he gave her, and hopped off the pedestal when instructed, then moved to a different area to get her school robes pinned. She then went about and picked out various fabrics to be made into skirts, dresses, a couple pairs of trousers for practicalities sake, and winter and summer cloaks according to her measurements. She also got fitted for two pairs of boots, one for wear day-to-day and a taller, more rugged set for use on the grounds and in the greenhouses. She paid for the lot, and was given a blouse and skirt that was already done according to her measure, along with a full set of underthings. She waved politely at Draco as she passed him on her way out, and then slowed and paused in front of the quidditch shop.

“Professor!” she called, catching Minerva’s attention, who had to backtrack a bit “I know the letter said First Years aren’t allowed to have their own brooms, but we can’t push the date forward any further than christmas. Can I just get it now? I promise I’ll keep it hidden, and I’m not about to try flying on it until I know how. That” she pointed up just as one of the demonstration fliers buzzed over the heads of the crowd “looks like a brilliant way to get myself killed if I try it without knowing how.” 

Minerva nodded, impressed with the girl’s forethought. Having it before term and hiding it would be much easier than trying to explain it’s sudden appearance at christmas, and why Haley was allowed to have one when none of her year was. The shop attendant actually tried to do the right thing, refusing to honor the certificate, until Minerva intervened and assured her it was all right, invoking the Deputy Head’s authority.

Broom in hand, their next stop was a magical luggage store to get Haley a trunk. Knowing full well she could afford it, Haley decided to spring for one of the upscale models, with multiple compartments, including one with cold storage and stasis charms for food and drinks and a sleeping compartment that turned out to be about the size of a bachelor flat. It was also spelled to be featherweight, and shrinkable. Haley stored her broom in the appropriate section, then triggered the built-in shrinking charm and put it in the inside pocket of her jacket.

As she was following Minerva to the bookshop, they passed Eeylops Owl Emporium. There was a shout, a crash, and Haley suddenly acquired a weight on her shoulder that nearly sent her staggering. She carefully turned her head to look, and was greeted with a pair of tawny yellow eyes, surrounded by snowy white plumage with black flecks in it.

“Hullo there…” She greeted, and got a satisfied sounding hoot in return. Haley could tell right away this wasn;t an ordinary owl, magic was positively _singing_ between them. Minerva noticed Haley wasn’t with her and stopped to look back, smiling as she saw the Owl. The hapless shop attendant came rushing out with a brass cage with an open door.

“So sorry, I was taking her out to clean the cage and she just _took off_. Hedwig, come on girl, back in you get….” the attendant’s attempts to coax Hedwig back into her cage resulted in the owl mantling and hissing. Haley held up a hand, then carefully used her other hand to come up from under Hedwig’s beak and scratch her chest, trying to calm her, driven by some inner prompting. The response was almost immediate. Haley looked back at the attendant.

“How much?” she asked, clarifying “For the full kit, everything I need to take care of her?” The attendant stammered something, then named a price. Haley called it from her pouch, and paid the attendant right there in the street. She was presented a moment later with a packet of instructions on how to use all the implements in the bag she was provided, which she stowed in her trunk. She looked again at Hedwig.

“Don’t suppose I could convince you to rest in your cage?” the disgusted look she got in return was answer enough.

“All right then. We’re staying at the Bluebell Inn tonight. Meet me there.” Hedwig gave a hoot at that, and sidled down Haley’s arm until the girl could help launch her. She winged silently away, and Haley rejoined MInerva.

“That owl is your familiar, you realize?” the Professor asked.

“I knew she wasn’t just a mail owl, if that’s what you mean. My magic sort of...sang to her, is the best I can put it? What’s a familiar?” Haley asked in response, and was treated to a brief lecture on Wizarding Familiars and all they could do. That took them into Flourish and Blotts, where they bought Haley’s school books and a few others on pureblood etiquette, as well as Wizarding politics and culture, most of the latter written by frustrated muggleborns who learned it the hard way from the sarcastic comments on the flyleaves. _Dedicated to every dunderheaded Pureblood who thought I was insulting them for just saying ‘hello’_ , was particularly entertaining to Haley. From there it was to the cauldron store, and the apothecary for ingredients, and a full set of stirring rods, plus calibrated scales. From there it was the stationary store for parchment, ink, quills, a penknife, and a guide to quill care.

Shopping done, they returned to their room, where Minerva began teaching Haley how to write with a quill, and assigned her exercises for the rest of the summer to help her get used to it. Haley setup Hedwig’s perch and cage, and left the window open so the owl could come and go. They took dinner on trays again, this time a beef roast that Haley savored much more, but it was an early bedtime again, because the day had been long, and they were both exhausted.

Haley snuggled down in her bed, with a warm feeling suffusing her. She had challenges ahead, sure enough, but she was going to learn _magic!_ She hadn’t lost sight of that among everything else. Dancing goblins waving wands with streamers followed her in her dreams, until finally she slipped into the dreamlessness of deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Founder names borrowed from Flamethrower's fantastic Of a Linear Circle. I tried not to steal them wholesale, but those names just fit.
> 
> Give her a read if you haven't!


	4. Do Phoenix Dream of Burning Sheep?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts has a Keeper now. The Castle is coming alive. What does that mean for a certain manipulating Headmaster and his “familiar”?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was heavy, dense, and long. I figure we could use some lighter fare this time around, so here’s a bit from Fawkes’ perspective. Also, we get an explanation for why Haley sounded so different in the last chapter.

It was Burning Day. Fawkes could feel it as soon as he awoke. His beautiful plumage was draggly and tired, and his body drooped on his perch. Inside, however, it was a different matter, as he felt his fire surge and roil and flare, impatient to be  _ free _ , and renew the cycle all over. Fawkes liked burning days, the humans were always so entertaining. The young ones especially. Fawkes’ kind were so rare that it wasn’t often that the young were aware of the cycle. Even the older ones, who should know better, often suffered under a false assumption that burning was  _ painful _ , and so looked at him sadly and offered gentle words.

Fawkes didn’t  _ mind _ gentle words, but the sadness wasn’t the  _ necessary _ kind, the kind that made you enjoy happiness all the more, or the kind that made the healing tears, so Fawkes  _ did _ mind that. Life was a joyful song with a bittersweet end. Any moments wasted on sadness that weren’t completely necessary were anathema to a Phoenix.

Fawkes looked from his perch at the current Headmaster. The man liked to claim Fawkes was his familiar, which was positively preposterous, but the Phoenix was able to keep an eye on him by allowing it, so he didn’t raise too much fuss when it came up. Phoenix almost never bonded to Wizards, and even though Fawkes  _ had _ , they only ever bonded to one. Fawkes’ Godric had been dead for centuries at this point, but Fawkes stayed at his beloved school, honoring his last wishes to make sure things didn’t get  _ too _ bad, as much as a single Phoenix could.

Things were almost at the point where Fawkes was going to have to intervene. These plans of Albus Dumbledore’s were...too much. That poor child. Nobody deserved what the Headmaster had in mind, but Fawkes would have to be strong to help the child. So, he’d pushed his burning forward, so that he would be back in shape by the time the child came to the school.

While he’d known today was the day, he did  _ not _ expect the giant  _ surge _ of magic would trigger it. He gave a very unmusical squawk as the castle around him  _ vibrated _ like a giant, impossible stone bell, and then a few very old and very  _ specific _ enchantments that he’d not felt since his Godric passed flared to life. As the flames consumed him and his new body formed in the ash below, he felt like things had just gotten interesting.

He couldn’t wait to meet the new Keeper.

***

Minerva woke to sunlight and birdsong and cool morning air. She found Haley hanging half out the window, eyes closed and head tilted back into the slight breeze, already dressed in the blouse and skirt that they’d bought yesterday. She yelped, tumbling out of bed and practically levitating across the room, yanking the young girl back from the brink. Haley squawked, then glared at Minerva, her arms crossed.

“What was that for?!” the girl demanded, the shy, sweet little thing replaced by...Minerva didn’t know what. Certainly she was acting far older than her years. Some of that could be explained by her lack of early childhood, yes, but not to  _ this _ extent.

“Miss Potter!” Minerva scolded, and even in her nightgown she cut an imposing enough figure that an eleven year old would normally be hunching in terror at that tone. Haley only frowned and made herself stand taller. It was then that a clue dropped and bonked Minerva on her head.

Haley wasn’t wearing her choker. And she’d had her magical core essentially blasted open yesterday. 

Suddenly a number of things fell into place, little things Minerva had seen about how she was acting at the bank, knowing things she shouldn’t, making decisions with a confidence  _ far _ beyond her years. How she talked about her magic  _ singing _ with Hedwig.

“Haley, please, listen to me. Your magic is completely open, right now. Normally this isn’t an issue until you get to Hogwarts, and even then you’d have it under subconscious control until at least third year, when we start teaching the basics of mind-magic. I know it sounds like an advantage - I saw how it helped you yesterday at the bank - but it’s  _ dangerous _ . Your magic is like a house with all the doors and windows wide open. Anyone and any _ thing _ can just walk right in. The spells we put on the choker would help a little, but they’re all defensive, they don’t fully activate unless there’s a targeted attempt. I think you have mage sense as well, so things are leaking in.” she watched Haley slowly start to relax, nodding along, and finally the girl sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

“I see, and I think you’re right. While it’s nice not stumbling over all the social conventions I don’t know...the risk is too high. All right. What do we do?” Minerva smiles at the girl, seeing the confident young woman she dearly hoped to help her grow into, and not mourning in the least for what she was about to do. She’d see this young woman again, though it’d take a few years.

“I’m going to start teaching you the basics of occlumency. I know we meant to go back to the castle today, but we’ve a few hours until we must surrender this room. We’ll use them. The basic premise is to learn your own mind, so you can sort out what’s  _ you _ , and what’s  _ not you _ . Then you build a shield to keep the  _ not you _ out. At your stage of development the shield will be crude, and likely wouldn’t stand up to someone like Albus, or even Professor Snape; our potions master and also another accomplished legilimens. Between it and the choker, however, you should be safe enough until you can master the more advanced parts.” Minerva explained, and Haley nodded, going and sitting in the chair she’d mentally tagged as “hers”. Minerva got dressed again and then sat in the other, looking at Haley seriously.

“Occlumency requires a calm, still mind. We’re going to start with some breathing exercises to help you quiet yourself and focus. Follow me.” She demonstrated the first exercise, breathing for seven beats, holding for seven, and then releasing slowly for seven. Haley watched for a round, then began copying her. MInerva watched her carefully, and when she saw the rest of the tension run out of the girl’s body, she spoke again.

“Good, now, imagine your mind as some physical location. Somewhere you’re familiar with, but not linked to any strong emotion. Imagine it with all its content intact, and imagine each memory becoming an object in the room. This helps you organize your mind, and lets  _ you _ control what memories are foremost and easiest to access. This helps you defend the memories you want to keep secret, but it also helps you sort out which memories, thoughts and feelings are truly  _ yours _ , since those outside yourself will just sort of….float through.” Minerva described. Her method helped set up the young girl for a very complex set of shields and defenses that would be put in place later, as the girl’s strength and control grew.

She knew Haley had the trick when she watched the tensions drain out of the small girl’s body, and when she opened her eyes, an eleven-year-old looked out at her again, instead of some impossibly knowledgeable witch in an eleven year old’s body.

“Excellent. Now, imagine closing the door to that room and locking it. That will set a rudimentary shield, that coupled with your choker, should protect you for now from all but the most determined and powerful Legilimens. And they would not be able to slip in undetected.” MInerva explained, and then nodded as Haley took another deep breath and screwed up her face in a frown of concentration. When her expression faded back to normal, Minerva suppressed a smile, and raised an eyebrow.

“Now, Miss Potter. Would you mind telling me  _ what _ you were doing  _ hanging out the window?” _ Haley winced and ducked her head, shuffling her feet a little where they dangled just above the carpet.

“Uhm...enjoying the morning air, Professor?” The uncertainty was exactly what Minerva would have expected from a first-year on hearing that tone of voice. She silently breathed a sigh of relief, and clucked her tongue.

“Well, Miss Potter. I advise you to remember that you are not even trained in the rudiments of magic, and thus as susceptible to falling and injuring yourself as a muggle. I trust you will take more caution in the future?” Haley nodded, and Minerva finally let herself smile.

“Excellent, then I think we can get a quick cuppa and some scones before heading back to the Castle. Shall we?”

***

Haley marveled at the  _ silence _ in her own mind after going through Professor McGonagall’s exercises and putting on her choker. She hadn’t realized how much  _ noise _ there was before. She hadn’t realized how much she was picking up from around her. The low-grade hum of Magic was still there, and she doubted she could do anything to get rid of it even if she wanted to, but all the other million thoughts, impressions, whispers and calls that usually cluttered her head were  _ gone _ , silenced by the mental shields she now had, and the protections provided by her choker. It was wonderful, and she could  _ think _ now. Could focus on a thought and examine it from all angles, or let her mind run and consider many at once, jumping back and forth between them entirely at will. It was exhilarating, but in a quiet way. At the mention of tea and scones, Haley hopped off her chair and darted to the door, bouncing on her toes, before darting down the hallway when she saw the Professor following. She thought she heard the Professor chuckle, but her mind was entirely on breakfast. She hoped there was blueberry.

There were in fact blueberry scones, and they were still warm. She spread a generous dob of clotted cream and lemon curd on hers, eating enthusiastically, but neatly, washing the whole thing down with a good rich tea smoothed by a splash of milk and sweet with sugar. She was getting used to eating her fill at meals, and gave no thought at all to what or how much she was eating. Once she and the Professor had finished, they trooped back upstairs to pack, which involved a few sharp charms from McGonagall, and Haley stowing all Hedwig’s gear in the shrinking trunk. She stroked Hedwig’s feathers and murmured to her.

“See you at Hogwarts, girl. Hopefully I’ll make lots of friends so you can carry post to them. And I’ll look at some subscriptions to take out as well, so you’re not bored.”

Hedwig gave an approving hoot, groomed a lock of Haley’s hair, then shuffled along the windowsill and took off into the morning air, heading in the general direction of Scotland. Haley followed the Professor back downstairs, her trunk tucked inside her shirt for now in lieu of a pocket. She looked forward to picking up her robes, they had nice deep pockets.

_ Being a girl is great, but why don’t girls’ clothes have  _ pockets _?  _ She mentally grumbled to herself, entirely unaware that every girl  _ ever _ has grumbled the same thing, often, usually with several curse words attached. Then she smacked herself in the head, pulled out and unshrunk her trunk, and grabbed the yellow jacket from yesterday. There had been no reason to transfigure it, so Minerva had left it as it was. She transferred the trunk to the pocket it was in yesterday, with a sigh of relief. She’d tucked it in her shirt because she saw some other girls do similar things sometimes, if she was out with her Aunt carrying groceries or shopping. She quickly discovered it was supremely uncomfortable, and wondered how they did it.

After their scones and tea, they made another quick stop by Madame Malkins’ to pick up the rest of her clothing. It was in two bundles, one for her school things and one for her other clothes. Haley quailed at the size of the bundles and the thought of sorting, hanging and folding all that, and Minerva chuckled and took pity on her.

“Just the once, Miss Potter. After this, you’ll be expected to keep things neat for yourself, and I daresay next summer you’ll be able to do this yourself.” Minerva waved her wand, and Haley watched with wide eyes as her clothes jumped out of the bundles and sorted themselves into the appropriate drawers, or onto the hanging bar, all in the wardrobe compartment of her trunk.

“Thank you, Professor!” she chirped in surprise, grinning up at the older witch, who simply nodded and then gave a wave to Madame Malkin. Haley closed her trunk and triggered the charm, sticking it back in her pocket as she hurried after Minerva, giving a cheery farewell that set Madam Malkin to grinning.

They apparated back to Hogwarts, and Haley crossed the wards a bit nervously. If that burst of magic had been noticed, or god forbid  _ repeated _ itself...but nothing happened except that she was stuffed with a warm sense of  _ welcome _ . That in itself was enough for her to stop and look around, her brow furrowed in confusion. Minerva gave a sigh, and turned to look as she heard the steps falter and stop behind her.

“What now, Haley?” she let a bit of the exasperation creep into her voice. She was  _ so close _ to her quarters, and she desperately needed some time to recover.

“Uhm...sorry, Professor. I just” Haley hesitated, and shook her head “It’s nothing wrong, just confusing. Do you feel a sense of welcoming, every time you come back here?” Even as tired as she was, Minerva chuckled, though another small corner of her heart broke that such a common thing should be so foreign to Haley.

“That’s what it feels like to come home, Haley dear. Now, come along. There are a few other things to get done, and as much as I enjoy your company, I am not as young as I used to be. It has been a very tiring three days, and I am very much looking forward to some rest.” Haley had the grace to look a bit guilty, but she didn’t feel that panic that normally came with any implication that she was being any sort of burden. Somewhere in the last four days, Minerva had been solidly imprinted as “safe” in Haley’s mind. Haley privately boggled about that, as she resumed the walk to the castle with the professor.

***

They made it to the main Entrance Hall, and in a bit of luck, one of the people Minerva was hoping to see was just passing through.

“Filius!” She called to the diminutive man, who checked his stride and turned toward them, waiting patiently as they crossed the foyer of the castle and came within easy conversation distance.

"Minerva! Rare to see you out of the castle this close to term...and who is your escort?" The little man reminded Haley of a goblin, but he did not sneer or snarl like one, nor did he have many of their common features. He strongly reminded Haley of the one Little Person she came across. Either way, she felt it impolite to inquire and settled for a shy smile, which was warmly returned by the professor.

"I'm Haley, sir. Haley Potter." She saw him blink once, then give a sharp look to Minerva.

"A pleasure, Miss Potter, a pleasure indeed!" He held out a hand, and Haley shook it politely. Minerva cleared her throat.

"Miss Potter has become a ward of the school, Filius. We have just returned from Diagon Alley after doing all the paperwork and acquiring her school things. I must ensure our end is taken care of, and have a...  _ discussion  _ with the Headmaster. May I leave Miss Potter in your care while I do? Show her where the guest quarters are, until she is Sorted, show her around the Castle and Grounds? Introduce her around? Hagrid should be most eager to meet her, and Pomona as well. Poppy knows her, and I shall... _ alert _ Severus." At Filius' nod, Minerva gave a grateful smile and turned sharply on her heel to stride away, then checked herself after only a step.

"Haley, you may trust Professor Flitwick as you do me. He is an accomplished Occlumens, and an old friend." Haley nodded at Professor McGonagall with another smile, before she turned back to Flitwick.

“Well, Miss Potter, my rooms happen to be near the guest rooms. Let’s get you settled, then nip in for a spot of tea before we traipse about the grounds, hm?” Professor Flitwick asked in his usual jovial fashion. Haley nodded and fell into step with him, and found herself in the odd position of having to check  _ her _ stride so as not to leave him in the dust. As they walked, he pointed out a few things of interest on their path, and warned her about the trick stair.

“Excellent charms work on that. Nobody in living memory knows when it was done, though I imagine it was one of the predecessors of the Weasley twins. I keep trying to puzzle out the countercharm, but it’s an entirely original spell, so I must go slow.” Haley looked down at him in puzzlement, and he glanced up and chuckled.

“Lost you, I see. My apologies, I rarely leave the Castle, so I forget that not everyone is as immersed in her as I. The Weasley family is an old and prominent family. Not much money, but a lot of back-door political pull when they care to use it. Young Arthur - well, young to me at any rate! - is a cunning one. He could have any job he chooses at the Ministry, and he does! He chose exactly what he wanted and damn the rest, but he’s often overlooked for it. Knows nearly everyone there, though, and is owed a favor by no few of them. They’re a large family, we’ll have four of them this term; Percival, starting his fifth year, goes by Percy. The twins, Fred and George, both in their third year, and rather innovative pranksters. Finally, in your year is their younger brother, Ronald. I think they’ve a baby sister as well, but she’d be too young to start this term.” Haley nodded again, her mind boggling at a family that large, and after a moment or two she asked

“So why must you go slow with the charm on the stair? What does the spell being original have to do with it?” Professor Flitwick looked up at her again, pausing in the middle of the corridor.

“Haley,” his face was puzzled, but not disappointed, and his tone was gentle “didn’t your relatives give you any of the Primers? Do you know anything about Wizardkind?” Haley shook her head, looking down with a flush.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll look it up later.” she tried to temporize, but Flitwick waved her off.

“No, no, no trouble at all. There’s plenty of time in the day and I’ve nothing pressing to do. I’m just a bit taken aback, is all. We’ve not had a student arrive here this unprepared in quite some time. No fault of yours, I can tell you’re a curious mind and a quick study, we’ll just have to fill in some blanks you were left with. Come along.” he set out again, more purpose in his step this time, and continued his explanation.

“Most people, when they create a charm or spell, or other piece of magic, leave notes as to what they did. This is so others can learn the spell, or find a way to counter it. It’s part of wizarding law, actually, in an attempt to prevent things like the Killing Curse from being created again. The knowledge of how it works, why it kills instantly, is lost you see. Therefore, nobody can even attempt to create a counter. Nasty piece of magic. Anyway, any time you attempt to counter an original spell without the notes of the creator, you must be very careful, because you do not know how it will react to what you’re doing to it. Or if the creator left traps behind.” This explanation saw them to the door of the Guest Quarters. Flitwick showed Haley the charm to open the door, then coached her as she tried it out, stressing the importance of pronunciation and accuracy of wand movement. He looked oddly at how she held her wand, but showed her how to correct the movements for it.

“Once you’re older and more experienced, you’ll learn how to develop your own wand-style. We teach a standardized version, mostly. It helps as you’re learning control, to focus the power. It’s explained more in-depth in the Primer.” he explained as she practiced the movement slowly, then after a few minutes, attempted the charm, and was rewarded with the door swinging open and torches illuminating the hall behind it.

“Excellent! I knew you were a quick study! Now let’s see...ah! Perfect.” he tapped a door about midway down the hall, and showed Haley how to place her hand so the room ward would key to her.

“These wards are tied directly into the Castle. Not even the Headmaster can bypass them unless it’s an emergency. Let’s get your trunk set up...there we are.” Haley took her trunk out of her pocket and set it by the foot of the bed, hitting the stud that let it return to its normal size. He showed here where the bathing room and the toilet was, as well as a bell-pull to summon a House Elf.

“Since you’re not a teacher, nor Sorted, you can’t call them by name yet. A bit inconvenient, but I’m sure you understand.” he gave her a chance to change, and when she shook her head, bustled her out the door and back down the hall. In a moment or two they were in his private quarters, in what he called Ravenclaw Tower. He got her settled in a large leather chair - the only chair in the room, in fact, that was not sized to him. He called for an elf, and placed an order for a light tea, then bustled about the room poking in and around things.

“I know I had...somewhere…I  _ just _ saw them the other-oh! Oh...oh I had forgotten. Miss Potter, I believe you would like to see this.” his tone shifted from preoccupied, to mildly frustrated, to mournful all in the space of that sentence. Haley, her curiosity peaked, hopped out of the chair and made her way over to where he was standing in front of an old trunk with the letters  _ L.E. _ stamped where her trunk had  _ H.P. _ “This was your mother’s. Just before they went into hiding, she left it with me. She was going to be my Apprentice, you see, for her Charms mastery. She was a brilliant witch, top of her class in Charms, and second only to Severus for Potions. “ he stared at the trunk a moment, then shook himself.

“Since you were her Heir, it should open to you. Give it a try.” Haley looked at him a moment, then eagerly placed her hand on the engraved letters, feeling a slight sting as the magic probed her, and on recognizing her blood, the lid popped open. She could tell it was a multi-compartment trunk, just like hers. Unlike hers, this trunk had no keyhole, but Haley could see a line of drawings on the lip of the lid. A book, a stylized wardrobe, a cauldron, and a starburst. She looked into the trunk and saw that it had defaulted to the book compartment, and inside was a veritable library. She longed to dig into it, felt herself practically itch to dive in and now come out until classes started. Then she felt a wave of sorrow wash over her, and quickly shut the lid and simultaneously clamped her jaw shut. She blinked several times, shook her head, and turned away from the trunk.

“Thank you, Professor. I-that-..I have nothing else of theirs. Not even a photo. This is...thank you.” she tried to sound polite and dignified, but she felt her throat starting to close. She jerked as she felt Flitwick patting her knee.

“I understand, Haley. I’ll hang onto it, until you’re ready.” She was saved from answering by a soft pop and the appearance of an Elf with their tea. She thanked the small being, which beamed at her in response, and then vanished with another pop. She settled back in the armchair, and Flitwick finally found the up-to-date Primer books that Haley should have gotten on her 10th birthday. Whether stopped by Dumbledore or the Dursleys, she didn’t know and frankly didn’t care at this point. She suddenly felt so  _ tired _ . Not physically, not mentally. She had the physical stamina of any 11 year old, though somewhat stunted by malnutrition, and her mind was whirling at its usually breakneck speed. Emotionally though, she had been through a lot, and just wanted to focus on learning her way around this new world she’d been brought to.

They ate tea quietly, Haley glancing at the titles of the books Flitwick had given her.  _ Potions Primer, Spellwork Primer, Wandlore 101, Wizarding Customs,  _ and  _ An Abbreviated History of Hogwarts _ . That last was  _ much _ slimmer than the unabridged  _ Hogwarts: A History _ that Minerva had insisted she get in Flourish and Blotts. She figured to start with that, then dig into the unabridged one later, once she had a foundation.

A quick stop by Haley’s room to drop off her books, and they were off on their tour of the grounds. Flitwick took her to each major part of the Castle, showing her the most direct routes and pointing out the predominant features of each.

“Plenty of time to dig into the nook and crannies yourself!” he said more than once as they breezed past some side corridor or unused room. After seeing the Astronomy Tower, Gryffindor Tower, Ravenclaw Tower, and the entrance to the Kitchens and the Hufflepuff common room, they entered the Dungeons. It was cool, and dim, but drier than Haley expected. They turned a corner, and Haley startled and quickly backpedaled to keep from colliding with a tall man with long, fine hair dressed in all black.

“Oh! Pardon me!” she yelped on reflex, catching herself on a wall to keep from tumbling backwards. The tall man looked at her with narrowed eyes.

“Filius? Did the term start early?” he asked, and Haley, so accustomed to the nuance of tone from her years of listening for even the slightest hint of anger or impatience in Aunt Petunia’s voice, picked up on both the wry humor, and the slight frustration. She made herself and small as she could, shying back even more from the imposing figure. She saw one eyebrow twitch on his face, but his expression stayed otherwise the same.

“Oh! Severus! We won’t impose on you, I was just showing Miss Potter around the Castle. She is now a ward of the school, according to Minerva, she’ll be in Guest Quarters until start of term. We won’t keep you.” Filius moved aside to clear the hall so Severus could pass, but he stood as if rooted to the spot, now staring at Haley, face gone ashen.

“I was unaware Harry Potter had a twin sister.” Severus said, attempting for that same droll tone, and nearly succeeding. Haley could tell he was disturbed however. Filius cleared his throat and shook his head, looking somber.

“No, Severus. This is Miss Haley Potter. Lily and James’ daughter. She’s been confirmed by Gringotts.” Snape reeled as if struck, stammered something, looked from Haley to Filius, and then turned and fled. Filius sighed and shook his head then turned to Haley. “I’m sorry, Miss Potter. Severus was very close to your mother, but hated your father. Not unwarranted hatred, either. Their history is complicated, but in simple terms, your father could be rather casually cruel to people he didn’t like while he was at school. He grew out of it around his fifth year or so, but the damage was done by that point. I think we’ve just delivered quite a shock to Professor Snape. I’ll talk with him later. Come along.”

Haley simply nodded, turning all that over in her mind.  _ I’ll have to see if I can find some letters or something of my mother’s in that trunk. If my father was such a prat...how did he and my mother get together? Especially since both Flitwick and McGonagall spoke so highly of her. _ She shook her head as she followed Flitwick through the halls. A mystery for later.

***

Severus stared down at the picture in his lap, ignoring the hot tears that splashed the glass. Oh, he was an  _ idiot _ . An idiot and blind.  _ Lilly….lilly! Oh god I failed your child so much. Forgive me! _ He gave a shuddering gasp. A witch, a  _ transgender _ witch, in the Dursleys’ house! For eleven years!  _ Oh Hekate  _ thank you _ for sending Minerva when you did. And give me strength. I knew Albus was keeping something from me. _ He snarled, suddenly angry, at himself, at Albus, at everything. His eyes darted to the cabinet that held his distilled spirits - sometimes necessary in brewing - then he turned savagely away.

_ No. That would be your father’s answer. Never like him! But oh Goddess...how could I have failed so much? _ He pounded his fist on the wall, his knuckle split and bled, and the wall seemed to shudder from the impact. He blinked at that, the emotional torrent shutting itself off at once in the face of the odd occurrence. His years of spycraft meant he could, at will, push aside emotion and let cold logic take over. He’d feel it all eventually, but he could clear his mind enough to think.

A moment later, there was a flash of fire from behind him, and he whirled to see Fawkes perched on his mantle. The phoenix was still small, he’d burned just the other day, but already his plumage was coming in. Severus knew what few did, that Fawkes was tied to Hogwarts herself, not just the Headmaster. That nonsense about the creature being  _ Albus _ ’ familiar was utter twaddle. He moved closer to the phoenix, looking at him with a tilted head.

“Fawkes, what-?” he cut himself off as he felt a sensation not unlike something  _ pecking _ his Occlumens Shield. He cautiously opened them a thread, and felt a wash of warmth of comfort slip through. Several flashes of insight occurred to him at once.  _ Albus has been manipulating things from the start. I’ve been kept deliberately in the dark. The opportunity to see to my vow was stolen from me. I am not blameless, but I have been given an opportunity to set things right. _ He looked at Fawkes, who trilled back at him, then began singing softly. Severus let the enchanted music soothe him, and he let those emotions out. He didn’t consider Fawkes to be “company”, so he had no compunctions about letting his guard down and processing what he felt.

_ Merlin...seeing that muggle therapist was the best decision I’ve made in a long time. I still hold no love for James, nor any of the Marauders, but it’s not that self-destructive  _ hatred  _ it was before. _ It had been a flippant remark from Filius that triggered that particular foray into London. Severus publically sneered at anything Muggle, to preserve his status as a spy, but one could not be friends with Lily Evans and keep that attitude for long. So, after much brooding, he had gone to see someone. It helped. Some pains were too large, and some things he had to keep from her, because of the statute. But it gave him the tools to deal with those things on his own, and he was a safer spy because of it.  _ Emotion interferes with Occlumency. The best way to prevent that is to process your emotion so that it doesn’t overwhelm you. _ Not even Dumbledore knew he’d gotten help. Even though the spangled jackass still had Severus on a leash due to his Death Eater status, he couldn’t emotionally manipulate the Potions Master.  _ Not that he hasn’t tried, but I’d be a poor Master if I couldn’t detect dosed food and drink, and I don’t leave so much as a nail paring where others can get it. So. Panic attack over, and since you’ve decided to keep your vow to protect Haley, better start with the immediate needs.  _ Severus took a deep breath, stroked Fawkes’ head in thanks, and set about brewing.

Haley would need a wide array of potions to ensure her recovery from Petunia’s abuse, and preserve her health as she confirmed her gender.

He barely noticed when Fawkes gave a farewell chirp and vanished in flame, already lost in the ecstacy of the subtle art of brewing.

***

Filius jerked up short and grabbed a handful of Haley’s skirt to stop her as well as they approached the greenhouses. The shriek, curse, and sound of breaking pottery caught both of them off guard. Filius looked up at Haley

“Stay well back, Miss Potter. Accidents in a magical Greenhouse can be nasty, and I’m not sure what we’ll find.” He stared at Haley until she nodded, drew his wand and went cautiously forward. They could see through the fogged glass a vague form of something human-shaped wrestling with a bunch of vines, with much shouting and cursing involved. Filius hurried his steps and opened the door, motioning Haley to stay back as he kept an eye on the floor.

“Pomona! It’s Filius, are you all right?”

“Fine, Professor - you wilt-leaved rotten son of a cactus! - just a spot of trouble with a Devil’s Snare. I can’t get my wand, could you-?”

Filius didn’t reply, but made a complicated wand motion and a jet of what looked like concentrated sunlight blasted from his wand-tip and struck a mass of writhing vines, which all shrank back from the older witch. She skipped spryly back and snagged a wand off a nearby workbench as she muttered and rubbed at her arms.

“Thank you, Filius. I’ll be bloody glad when this menace is out of my greenhouse. It’s worse than the ruddy Venomous Tentacula. But what brings you out here? Not often you’re outside the Castle in summer.”

Before Filius could answer, there was a young, feminine shriek from the door of the greenhouse. He whirled to find that the blasted Snare had done an end-run around the back wall and had wound itself around Haley. The young girl was struggling madly, twisting and squirming as the vines wound more and more tightly around her. They were halfway up her torso and heading fast for her throat. Pomona gave a bellow and charged in, savagely lashing her wand at the tendrils, and streamers of Bluebell flame poured out. The vines rustled, then slowly began to loosen and retreat, releasing the child and slithering back towards their darkened corner of the greenhouse. Filius followed Pomona, who was outside the greenhouse with the door shut as soon as Haley was free of the last of the vines.

“Shhh, shhhhh, it’s all right, my dear. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Pomona said softly as she approached the child slowly. She could see the poor girl’s pupils were blown wide in fear and she was shuddering like an ash-leaf in the wind. The physical damage was relatively minor. There would be some bruising, but that was the worst of it. The girl stared uncomprehendingly at Pomona, then launched herself at the witch with a choked sob and clung on like a creeper vine. Pomona continued cooing over the poor thing, rubbing her back reassuringly, until Filius cleared his throat.

“Pomona, meet Haley Potter. Minerva rescued her from her muggle relatives, who were well on their way to making the child an Obscurial. She’s been made a Ward, until she is Sorted.” Pomona looked at the Charms professor, then down at the tiny thing in her arms, and quickly suppressed a growl. Instead she simply looked back at Filius, fire in her eyes, and nodded once. At that moment there was a storm of thunderous barking and a set of loping crashes as a literal giant of a man came pounding around the corner of the greenhouse, axe in hand.

“Alrigh’ there Professor? Heard th’ shoutin’, me and Fang did. Came t’ help. Oh! Hello there…” he immediately lowered his voice when his eyes met the child in Pomona’s arms. He approached more slowly, shushing Fang, who gave a whine then came snuffling over towards Haley. The girl wiped her face, and with a shy sort of bravery, reached out towards the massive black mutt.

“Hey boy...c’mere…” Fang gave another whine and snuffled the girl’s hand, then gave a deep grunt of pleasure as she scratched his head. After a moment or two Pomona felt her relax, and she pulled back a little. Pomona let her go and saw she was blushing a bit, but also looked up at Hagrid fearlessly.

“Sorry for shrieking. I’m Haley, Haley Potter. You...seem familiar, somehow? Have we met?” Pomona looked from Hagrid’s dumbfounded face to Haley’s confused scrunch, and internally sighed. This was going to be interesting.

***

Haley looked up at the giant of a man, still idly scratching his dog. Haley always liked dogs, they were simple and honest, and you could tell a lot about a person from how their dog acted around them and around others. Fang was loyal, protective, but also kind and loving. The special kind of dog love that assumes everyone is a friend, even after proven otherwise. Haley had observed that much from the way they came charging up together, Fang barking up a storm. From the way Hagrid had immediately gentled upon seeing Haley, she inferred he was largely the same way. And he really did seem familiar, in that vague way that someone seen a long time ago is. He  _ smelled  _ familiar, and there was literally nobody that Haley wanted anything to do with that fit that criteria. Dog biscuits, strong tea, and crushed pine needles.

She saw his face morph from confusion, to a brief consternation, then into overwhelming joy.

“As I live an’ breathe! Har-Haley! Last I saw ye, you weren’ bigger’n my hand! Lor’ this is a lark, meetin’ yeh like this. I was s’posed to deliver yer letter in a few weeks! But yer already here! Well, no matter. I’m sure Dumbledore approved whatever caused the change. Properly then, I’m Rubeus Hagrid. Call me Hagrid. Keeper of Game, Grounds and Keys here at Hogwarts. James an’ Lily were good freinds, an’ cor if ye ain’t the spittin’ image o’ yer mother at tha’ age. Her hair was red, ‘course, but still. Anyroad, come see me sometime, yeh? Cottage is righ’ by the forest. I’ll leave yeh to yer business, gotta check on the pumpkins.” with that, he took himself off, Fang gave Haley another snuffle before he bounded off after.

“Well.” Professor Flitwick said, taking a look at a pocketwatch. “I think that’s plenty of excitement before lunch.” He patted Haley on the knee, then motioned to both her and Pomona. "A quick stop by the Infirmary I believe, just to be sure, then some food, and a quiet afternoon of reading sounds in order."

"Sounds good, Professor." Haley said before she took a deep breath and smiled at Professor Sprout "And nice to meet you, Professor…?" Pomona looked askance at her, then thumped her own forehead

"I never did say, did I. I'm Professor Sprout, dearie. Herbology and Head of Hufflepuff house. A pleasure to meet you. Now let's get some of Poppy's bruise cream on you before those get much worse." And with that they bustled into the castle. The stop at Poppy's office was brief thanks to Filius wisely keeping Haley in the hall and sending Pomona for the bruise balm. They lunched in Filius' office, it being closest, and then Haley went back to her room and dug into Wandlore 101, the only interruption was when a house elf popped in to see if she'd like supper in her room. She thanked the creature, ate what was brought while barely tasting it, and fell asleep with the book open in her lap.

***

Minerva was probably one finger more than entirely advisable into her bottle of scotch, but it was summer holiday and dignity be damned. She'd  _ earned _ this. It was just after 7 in the evening and she was contemplating begging an elf to bring her some shortbread when a knock sounded on her door. She debated not answering, when it came again, more urgently. She sighed and got up to answer, and her eyebrows flew up in shock when she saw who it was.

"My dear boy, come in, come in! You look like you've just walked o'er your own grave. Here, sit, Topsy!" She called, smiling at the elf who appeared "Supper for two, a half-bar of chocolate, and a pot of strong tea, please. My guest needs it." Topsy nodded and popped off, and Minerva resumed her seat.

"Now, Remus Lupin. What brings you to Hogwarts in the middle of summer, and to my door looking like you've just been gut-stabbed?" Remus stared at her, cleared his throat, and rasped out.

"I think Peter might be alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, that was too good a place to end things. I have been fighting this whole time trying to resolve who I should make Haley's guardian, and the answer could only be Sirius. So we get this particular ball rolling a bit earlier. Plus I absolutely love Remus, so I wanted to bring him in. Hopefully the next chapter doesn't take as long!!!


	5. Endings and Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things end, others begin, and things move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: SO. Somehow Remus found out about Peter, a whole two years early. Let’s examine that, shall we?  
> Also: I came to the realisation that the way House Elves speak and their names in cannon is a tad too close to American Minstrelsy for my comfort. Thus, I'm altering them considerably to be more like the Brownies they're based on. I'll make up some justification for the ones who have already appeared.

Minerva sighed and sank into her chair, resting a hand over her eyes.  _ I am getting too old for this  _ she thought tiredly, then shook herself and just as she needed it, Topsy reappeared with the tea. Minerva seized the pot, stood on ceremony only enough to poor Remus a cup before pouring and tossing back her own. She poured a second, this time took a small sip to get the flavor. She let Remus stall only long enough to fix his own tea to his taste, then cleared her throat.

“All right, Remus. What’s brought this on? I know it was heartbreaking for you when Sirius went to prison, but the evidence-” Remus set his cup down rather more forcefully than necessary, though not enough to damage it.

“That’s just it, Minerva. There  _ is _ no evidence. None. Sirius’ wand was never tested to see which spells it had cast, the angles of the blast were all wrong, and if the spell was strong enough to rend the rest of Peter to ashes  _ why was his finger intact _ ? You know as well as I that the blasting hex doesn’t work like that, and neither does any destructive Black Art. Why was there never a  _ trial _ , Minerva? Theseus was the most assiduous Head Auror there ever was. Could still be doing the job, if he cared to! And…I went to see Molly and Aurthur. I’ve only just come from there. I wanted to ask them to watch out for Harry this term, since you can damn well be certain Petunia won’t. Minerva, the full moon is in three days.  _ I could smell him _ . If there’s even a chance to get Siri out of jail and get Harry away from those horrible muggles  _ I have to try. _ I owe James that.” Minerva sat in shocked silence as all of that poured out of Remus. She’d no idea that he had also been keeping tabs on Haley, though obviously distant ones if he didn’t know of the recent change.

“Well, on one of those counts I can ease your mind. I personally removed the child from Petunia’s…”care” and invoked the Ward clause as Deputy Head. Remus, there are things you should know.” Minerva took a deep breath, and silently summoned the copy of Haley’s inheritance report, the final one they took that showed all her confirmed holdings. Remus’ eyes flickered over the parchment, eyebrows shooting up at the inventories, and then lowering thunderously as he reached the list of removed enchantments.

“That spangled bastard. I’ll flay him. Alive.” Remus growled, his wolf sitting up and taking notice of the emotional shift. Minerva nodded once, but cleared her throat.

“Albus will be…handled. I ask you to restrain your homicidal impulse until certain other considerations are seen to. However, there’s one other thing I’ll call your attention to. Examine the name at the top of the parchment, please.” Remus looked at the parchment again and his brow furrowed in confusion. Then it really hit him what he was looking at, and he looked at Minerva in wonder.

“She changed it?’` Minerva nodded, a sad smile drifting over her face.

“Just four days ago. Apparently those...relatives of hers had her thinking it was something wrong and freakish. She’s nearly the image of Lily, Remus. Except she still has Jame’s hair and coloring. She hasn’t taken the potions yet, but her core shifted to recognize the change. Are you staying tonight?” Minerva glanced at the clock, then back looked back to Remus.

“I-yes. Yes I think I’d better. Is the tunnel under the Willow still there? Even if I don’t have the Marauders with me, the Shack should still be familiar enough that-” Remus cuts off as there is a soft knock on the door. Minerva raises an eyebrow, then calls out for the visitor to enter. Severus Snape slips into the room, and then stops as he sees who else is visiting Minerva this late.

“Pardon me. I will return later.” he says stiffly, turning to go.

“Severus, wait please,” Minerva interrupts, holding up a hand “Remus and I were just discussing something I think you should be involved in. He came here tonight with some interesting news, and to try to make an opportunity to get Haley away from her relatives. He is under the impression that Peter Pettigrew is alive, and somehow hiding with the Weasley family. Apparently Arthur did some checking, and Sirius Black was never given a trial, nor any evidence collected. In light of this, Remus has decided to remain in the castle for a few days while we sort things out. The full moon is in three days, is that enough time to brew a Wolfsbane?” Severus’ face was an interesting study in subtle emotion while all this was being related to him. He looked at Remus, looked at McGonagall, then looked at a flask he was holding in his hand, containing a potion of shifting blues, soft pinks, and whites.

“It can be done.” he says softly, then inhales and stares directly at Remus “You frighten me. I still despise James Potter, and most especially Sirius  _ buggering _ Black for what they did to me. They were bullies of the most petty sort, and while you never joined in, you never really tried to stop them. However.” he sets the flask on Minerva’s desk “For  _ Lily’s daughter _ , I will set aside those things. You will have your wolfsbane, but let me be clear,” he folded his arms, towering over the seated werewolf “If you breathe one molecule of harm onto Haley, I will not hesitate to pour molten silver down your throat.” Remus sat quietly, not reacting to the blunt honesty nor the passionate threat from Severus. He knew both were sincere.

“Professor Snape....Severus, if I may call you that, I will not try to trivialize your trauma by expecting a simple apology to repair, well, anything. Nevertheless, it’s the only place I know to start. You are correct. My inaction was - and remains - just as inexcusable as James and Sirius’ behavior. I understand your fear of my Wolf. In a way, I share it. Hurting someone, or gods all forbid passing on this curse, is one of my worst nightmares. All the same.” and here his eyes took on a steely, level look “You are not the only wizard here with vows to fulfill. I could no more harm Haley than I could my own child,” he stood then, extending a hand to Severus “in this goal, we are partners. We may never like each other, but I hope we can work together.” Severus stared at the hand a moment, then slowly, reached out and shook it. He dropped it quickly, but managed not to wipe his own hand on his robe.

“Agreed. Minerva, this is the first of Haley’s affirmation potions. Be sure she gets it first thing tomorrow. Good night.” he turned and swept from the room, closing the door gently behind him. Remus turned back to Minerva, and sighed deeply.

“I’ll leave you to your evening, Minerva, I know the way to the guest rooms. Thank you, for listening to me, and for telling me. Good night.” Minerva returned his farewell politely, already staring into her fireplace and pouring herself a fresh measure of whiskey. Remus took himself out.

He stood in the corridor for a moment, before trekking to the guest quarters, taking a few shortcuts he remembered. He’d thought of asking which room was Haley’s, but he wasn’t certain he wanted to have that conversation tonight. It was already getting late, and with the full moon approaching, he was tiring easily as he had to fight harder to contain his wolf. As he gained the corridor, he went to the first unoccupied room, keyed himself to it, stripped and fell into bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

***

Haley woke with dawn bursting through her window. She stretched, winced a bit as her muscles complained about passing the night in such an awkward position, and got out of the bed, carefully working her limbs and rolling her head to loosen any kinks. Once she got her muscles to stop protesting, she gathered her things and went to the bathing chamber at the end of the hall. She got herself cleaned up for the day, luxuriating in the bath until the water cooled, savoring the freedom to do so. 

She got out and toweled off, then slipped into a dressing gown to pad back down the hall on bare feet. She got back to her room and got dressed in a sort of golden lazy attitude, perusing her wardrobe and selecting things for comfort. A long but light and flowing black skirt, with the usual stockings underneath, and a short-sleeved, loose fitting pull-over blouse with a wide neck. It was of a light cotton, a pale blue with embroidered flowers. The soft, delicate fabrics contrasted with the mild tension of the stockings that made Haley shiver in delight.

_ Well if there was ever any doubt that this was the right choice, that about settles it. Though as soon as I learn how, I am magicking blasted  _ pockets  _ on everything I own. This is ridiculous. _ She looked at herself in the mirror, and smiled.  _ I think this is the first time I haven't hated my reflection. I thought that was all Dursley-talk. Ugly freak with an ugly scar. _

She frowned at herself.  _ Though, it seems there's definitely some of that there. I'll talk to- _ that's when it hit her. She had  _ so many people  _ that she could talk to now. Minerva, Filius, Pomona.  _ When did I start trusting them? Do I trust them? _ She thought hard on that, her mind whirling as she tied on her choker. She felt the charms settle around her, and gave herself a shake.

_ It's odd...I should be a lot more suspicious than this. And a lot more convinced that they want nothing to do with me. I spent 11 years thin-oh. Oh! Gods I'm thick. _ She shook her head at her reflection.  _ Those personality charms. They were making me feel that way. I'm still not  _ normal  _ by any means. You can't spend your life with the Dursleys and suddenly be okay after a week, but I think it won't be nearly as bad as it could have been. _

Her hand goes to a spot on her right shoulder, just to the right of the base of her neck. She fingered the raised scar there. It was the easiest one to reach, and had become like a touchstone. A reminder of what her life was like.

_ But not any more. Problems abound! I'm not safe, yet. Especially with that meddling Dumbledore about, but I'm not a scapegoat anymore. I'm not the sole target of everyone's bad mood. _ She smiled again and slipped her shorter boots on. She still preferred the trainers, but she needed to get used to the boots before term if she was going to be wearing them all day.  _ I'll switch to the taller ones after dinner while I'm here in my room. Those I just want to soften a little, since they're only for the greenhouses and Quidditch. _

She pulled the bell, and smiled at the Elf that appeared. It was another wrinkled, small creature, but this one had a more pale cast to its -  _ no, her _ \- skin. The bone structure was also mildly different, and her voice had a soft lilt.

"I'm Saoirsí. What kin' I be gettin' Miss?" she asked looking up at Haley with large blue eyes. Haley squatted down so she was at eye level with the House Elf, and tilted her head. The elf's accent had strengthened on her name, which Haley recognized as some flavor of Gaelic. It sounded like "Sur-she". 

"I was thinking of breakfast, but are you busy? Do you have time to stay and answer a few questions once you bring it? I was raised by muggles, I don't know anything about House Elves, and I'm curious." Saorsie looked surprised, but nodded.

"Aye, Keeper. There be less t' do about Hogwarts with all th' students bein' gone. I'll be back wi' a tray an'..." she paused and looked off into space a moment "seems there's potions for ye as well. Just as well, yer all skin 'n bone. Back in a twist."

Haley waited patiently as she sat in the only chair in the room rather than get into bed with her boots on. True to her word, Saoirsí reappeared in moments, carrying a tray laden with a typical fry-up breakfast and three phials of potion in a small wire rack. A snap of her fingers and a tray-table appeared in front of Haley. Haley smiled as the elf placed the tray in front of her, then looked around. She bit her lip a bit, then looked back at Saoirsí.

“Uhm, I don’t have anywhere else to sit, if we’re going to be talking a while, I don’t want to keep you standing…” the elf gave her a kindly smile and snapped again, summoning an elf-size stool and settling on it.

“Now, Keeper, what kin I answer for ye?” Saoirsí asked, looking up at Haley keenly. She was utterly different than the only other elf Haley had seen, and the young witch decided that was as good a place to start as any.

“Well, I’ve only met two House Elves, period. The other was another girl named Topsy, though she was a bit more tan than you, and spoke in the third person. I apologise if this is rude, please tell me if so, but what exactly are you? I read a lot of muggle fiction, and the closest I’ve found are Brownies, but they’re supposed to be very secretive and only come out at night. And they don’t wait on humans the way you seem to. Rather the opposite, in fact.” Saoirsí looked a bit forlorn as Haley mentioned Brownies, and gave a soft sigh. Haley started to stammer an apology, and Saoirsí shook her head.

“Yer bang on, lass. We’ve nae been brùnaidh for many years. That was our name, once. We were proud, ‘an free as birds. This was back when the Summer an’ Winter courts were still in this world, when Oberon an’ his plaything Titania, an’ Mad Queen Mab still ruled. We drew our power from them, or mostly from them. When man’s world got too big an’ the Cold Iron closed in around us, Oberon, Titania an’ Mab took their courts and turned sideways from the sun, went Under Hill an’ closed it up behind them. Those as what could went wi’ em, but us, th’ Goblins, an’ th’ Pixies are Earth Spirits. We needed the Courts as a source of Magic, but our lives are tied t’ th’ Earth, to th’ soil. Green growing things and warm hearths and good black ground, rich wi’ worms. That’s our life, but so’s magic. So we were left in a fix.” She gave Haley a  _ look _ when the girl payed more attention to the tale than her food. Guiltily, she drank down all three potions without looking at them, then started taking quick, neat bites of food, washing them down with hot tea, unsweetened, cold milk and orange juice in turns. The tea was perfect, nice and rich with a good kick, but not bitter in the least. Haley found it didn’t need sugar, and resolved to get the Elves to either keep her supplied with it, or learn how to make it herself. As she ate, she listened to Saoirsí.

“There were a few o’ us who’d taken to openly working wi’ magifolk. Witches, hags, sorcerers, wizards an’ warlocks. Those be the old names, by the way, nae this lads-are-wizards, lasses-are-witches nonsense. I kin explain tha’ later. Important bit righ’ now is, we realized that those as what worked wi’ magi, partnered wi’ em and bonded t’ em, weren’t sufferin’ like th’ rest o’ us. So we all got together an’ decided t’ bond as well. Nae many remember th’ old accords anymore, an’ there’s many more who keep their elves ignorant a-purpose. This was all a few thousand years ago, y’ken? Now, we Høgéwaþ elves, we’re older’n most, an’ better informed. Tis in th’ charter, an’ since we’re treated so well, we last longer. Th’ Founders, they knew what was what, an’ wrote protections fer us in. Other elves, they kinnae break their bonds unless th’ family makes a serious offense, like offerin’ clothes, an’ kinnae refuse an order. Us? We’ve much more freedom. We kin ignore orders if they put students or staff at risk, we kin break th’ bond any time we please, an’ we kin choose our duty. Some cook, some clean, some wash clothes, some work wi’ plants, others work wi’ people. Tis good work, an’ honest, an’ there’s damned few as would want t’ leave.” she grins at Haley “An’ now tha’ there’s a true Keeper o’ th’ Castle about, I ‘spect more’ll want t’ come.” Haley sat wide eyed, still eating, under this avalanche of information. Her thoughts whirled, then caught on the title Saoirsí had given her.

“I’ve been called that before, Keeper. I know I inherit the Founder houses once I’m 17, but what does that title mean? Does it do anything special for me?” she asked softly, setting her fork down once she was full. To her shock, she’d eaten most of the plate, leaving only a couple bacon rinds and scraps of bread crust. Saoirsí gave her a look, but nodded.

“Aye, any Hogwarts elf will take orders from ye, an e’en though ye’ve nae been sorted yet, ye kin call us by name. The Headmaster still holds th’ wards, an’ while yer a student ye can’t override any order tha’ don’t put a student or teacher in danger. Tha’s yer main role, is ensurin’ th’ safety o’ the Castle an’ it’s residents. Nae only th’ Magi, but all those in th’ Forest and Lake as well.” Haley nodded. It sounded...like a lot of responsibility.

“Do I have to do all that….right away?” She made a face “I’m only eleven…” Saoirsí chuckled and shook her head.

“Nae, lass. Hogwarts knows yer nae fully awakened yet. Yer core is still growin’, an’ ye’ve much t’ learn. If I’m readin’ th’ patterns right, at th’ moment Hogwarts feels rather protective of  _ ye.  _ So known that yer always safe here, an there’ll always be help, if ye ask.” Saoirsí looked to her left, tilting her head. “I’m needed. I’ll take tha’ tray.” Haley stood as the Elf did, and smiled at the creature, extending her hand.

“Thank you, Saoirsí. Shall we do this again tomorrow morning? I’ve still got questions, but it’s weeks yet to term, and I don’t want to keep you from your work.” Saoirsí looked surprised at the courtesy, but gave a smile and nodded.

“Sounds good, lass. An’ don’ hesitate t’ call me if ye need aught else. Or use th’ bell, one of us’ll turn up. Slán!” and she vanished with a crack. Haley sat back down a moment, then was seized by a restless energy. She glanced outside and saw the sun was high in the sky.

_ As long as I steer clear of that greenhouse with the murder-plant, I should be all right to wander. Probably better stay away from the forest as well, since it’s name is literally the  _ Forbidden  _ forest. And if there are more creatures like Saoirsí in there, I doubt they’d appreciate me stumbling through their woods. _ Haley nodded to herself and snagged a hat to protect her from the sun.  _ Not _ the conical nonsense without a brim that went with her uniform, but a yellow straw sunhat with a wide brim. Checking to ensure her wand was secure in its holster on her wrist, she slipped out of her room and started down the hall. She discovered very quickly that the skirt, though it flowed loosely, tended to plaster itself to her legs if she took steps too long or too fast.  _ Lordy, who’d have thought that there was so much to learn about wearing  _ clothes _. Are girls’ clothes deliberately complicated, or is it just me? _

Her thoughts ran along that vein and distracted her from where she was going and her surroundings. That is, until she literally ran into-and bounced off-someone else in the hall. She wasn’t aware that anyone else was staying in the guest quarters, so she wasn’t as careful as where she was going as usual. She staggered back a step or two, while the older man stood firm. He was larger than her - who wasn’t, except Professor Flitwick? - but not a towering brute like Hagrid. He looked rather surprised, but his hair and mustache of indeterminate brown, along with a careworn face, put Haley at ease almost immediately.

“Pardon me, dear, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you all right?” he smiled at Haley, and she found herself shyly smiling back in spite of herself. For a moment she panicked and thought maybe he was somehow enchanting her because  _ why was she smiling at a strange older man what the hell? _ But she felt Hogwarts wrap her in a warm feeling of calm and safety. The castle trusted this man. Haley wasn’t that easily convinced, but it was enough to quell the panic rising in her.

“My fault, sir. I’m Haley.” she extended her hand and left off her last name for now. She did  _ not _ want to deal with the whole “Harry Potter” conversation this early in the day. He reached out and took her hand and gave it a polite shake, his expression subtly amused but somehow not condescending for it.

“I know, I spoke with Minerva last night. My name is Remus Lupin. I was a very close friend of your parents, we all went to school together. You look a lot like them.” Again, this was all said with such simple kindness that none of it bothered Haley. She found herself floundering, unsure of how to react to someone so  _ good _ . This was a foreign entity for her, mind-boggling and inconceivable until confronted with it. Oh, Hagrid was good, so was Filius, and Pomona, and Minerva, and even Severus, though she had only fleeting impressions to support that last opinion. However, this  _ Remus _ just  _ radiated _ goodness and safety and comfort. Rather like an affable large dog.

“Oh. Nice to meet you. Uhm...I was going to go take a walk around the grounds, explore a little. I won’t keep you…” she offered him the out, imagining that sooner or later she would find an adult who was heartily tired of spending their time with  _ children _ . She was pleasantly disappointed when she smiled and tilted his head to offer

“Do you mind if I join you? I must have wandered every bit of the castle and grounds when I was a student here, but it’s been years since I set foot in the place. I’d rather like to re-acquaint myself with the old girl.” well. Out offered and rejected, Haley smiled and shook her head.

“I don’t mind at all. Maybe...you could tell me a little about them? If you want, I mean....” she found herself stumbling, uncertain. Would he want to talk about them? It’d only been eleven years, after all. If they really were close it could take a lot longer to get over something like that. Again, that kind, patient smile and a small nod.

“I’d like that, a lot. Your father was...rambunctious, but your mother was the real rebel. She was often more intense than James, she was just quieter about it, and people underestimated her because she was so pretty. Often to their misfortune.” Remus gestured ahead of himself, and Haley opened the door into the main corridor and preceded him through it, then held it for him. He chuckled, and led the way down the corridor. “So, Haley, what would you like to know?” Haley thought about that a moment, then shrugged.

“Let’s start at the beginning, how did you meet my dad?” she asked, and Remus chuckled again with a nod, then launched into the tale. Haley listened attentively, and soon Remus had the bit between his teeth and he was off and running. He was a good story-teller, offering multiple perspectives to a tale. He told of how James had intervened when a couple of older students were bullying Remus for his shabby clothing, and how he had become fast friends with the man from then on. When Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew completed the quartet, the stories went from amusing to utterly hilarious, occasionally thrilling, and altogether magical. Then Remus’ face got sad, and he heaved a sigh.

“Alas, the golden days weren’t to last, though they certainly seemed to for a long time while I was living them, but looking back.” he looks out the corner of his eye at Haley “If you were a normal eleven year old, I’d never even think of telling you these stories for another four years at least. But you are already very aware that people are fallible, and that adults aren’t irreprochable superbeings. I could wish you were less aware of that but...well. You’ll understand I think.”

Then he started a completely different set of tales, concerning the gang that she learned dubbed themselves “The Marauders”, and how they’d gone from four pranking friends to two vicious bullies, and their two hangers on. “I am not very proud of how I acted in those later years. Neither was James, once I got the spine to call him out on it. He fixed his behavior in our seventh year, which is when Lily really took an interest in him. Before they were sort of standoffish, like two big cats warily circling each other. She started hanging out with us after Severus did something foolish in our fifth year and alienated her.” he gives another sigh “I’m afraid I can’t really condemn him for the path he took. It must have looked like the only one at the time, and he  _ did _ spy for us, during the war and after.” Haley could tell that there was a lot that was being left out, but it didn’t feel like he was being evasive. Hogwarts backed him on this, always a content hum in the back of Haley’s head.

“Wow...I have some of Mum’s old school things. Professor Flitwick had her trunk. I didn’t really go through it, yet, just sort of glanced in. We...we could look through it together, if you want? I can’t keep  _ all _ of it, and I think Mum’d want you to have something, to remember her.” to her shock and dismay, Remus actually started quietly crying at that.

“Oh, Haley, that…I’m sorry. How did you stay so  _ kind _ ?” He took out a much abused handkerchief and wiped his eyes with it, cleared his throat and then looked at his watch. “Great Merlin, it’s nearly 1 o’clock. We’ve been at this all morning.” he looked around at where they were, they’d walked halfway around the black lake. He looked a bit guilty down at Haley.

“I uh…” he started, then Haley giggled and held up a hand.

“Saoirsí?” she called, and the elf popped up next to them, hands on her hips, tapping a foot. Haley blushed, and gave an embarrassed cough. “We, uh, just noted the time. I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a picnic lunch?” The elf gave a snort, and nodded sharply.

“Aye, lass, I think we kin manage that. An’ just so ye won’  _ forget _ again, I’ll come find ye midday from now on. Those potions you’re on should be taken regular-like.” The elf snapped her fingers and a blanket appeared on the plush grass before them, in the shade of a nearby tree. “Ye settle in there, an’ I’ll be back in two shakes o’ a pookah’s tale.” and she disappeared with a soft pop. Remus looked bemused.

“Was that a...a house-elf?” he asked, sounding a bit taken aback. Haley looked up at him, and nodded.

“According to her, they were originally called brùnaidh, and when Oberon and Mab left the world, they entered a pact with Magi because they couldn’t follow. I guess people have been abusing them, but Saoirsí is older, and has been at Hogwarts from the start where conditions are better.” she explained as she sat on the blanket, feet out in front of her and braced on her hands, looking out at the lake. Remus nodded and sat beside her.

“Not many people remember the original name. I’ve made something of a study of fairy-folk, and I’d come across the term, but I’d not make the connection to our House-elves. Interesting…” he seemed lost in thought until Saoirsí returned with their lunch, and Haley’s potions. They ate amicably, then Haley took a deep breath and popped to her feet with the effortless grace and energy of youth.

“Thank you, Remus. You’re a good story-teller. I have books to get through though, before term. Are you staying in the castle? Can we meet for dinner?” she asks eagerly, and Remus can’t help but smile as he nods.

“I’ll come by around six, there’s a small dining hall in the guest quarters, we’ll eat there?” he glances at Saoirsí who nods as she gathers the picnic supplies. Haley beams, then darts off towards the castle, her restlessness satisfied and eager to get back to her reading and learning.

***

None of them had noted the raven that sat croaking in a nearby tree, nor paid any particular attention to the way it watched them with more than passing corvid interest. Nor were they there to see the bird swoop to the ground, and change form back into a tall, imposing man with pale skin and fine, black hair.

“Very well, Lupin. We’ll play it your way.” Professor Severus Snape intones to himself, sweeping along the path back to the castle, face impassive but mind whirling as what he’d overheard processed through his mind.

_ It looks like the werewolf finally found his courage. And if he is half sincere about what he said to Haley...perhaps. But it must be subtle, and cautiously done. I cannot let Dumbledore know. _

***

Fawkes was back in the Headmasters’ office, because that’s where the fun was. Or, well, where the strongest emotions were anyway. Minerva was arguing with Albus. Those instances were rare, but were generally entertaining for the Phoenix, if for no other reason than to learn more of Minerva’s impressive vocabulary.

“You  _ bat-brained, cotton-earned imbecile _ ! Quirinus Quirrel isn’t qualified to teach flobberworms how to eat! And the man is a coward atop it. No, absolutely not, I will  _ not _ support you in this, and if I have to I  _ will _ take the entire staff with me to go before the Board.” the fiery scots witch folded her arms and  _ loomed _ over Albus, using her posture. To her credit, Albus looked somewhat shocked that she was fighting him this hard.

_ More the fool he _ Minerva thought. Oh, she’d been enamored of him since he beat Grindlewald, and his use of the Order in the first Blood War was inspired, but she was beginning to see the cracks in the facade he put up, and she was less than impressed with what she glimpsed beneath.

“Minerva, need I remind you-”

“You do not.” she cut his latest attempt off at the knees, pointing a finger at him. “I will remind  _ you  _ of the position you are in! If there were a suitable replacement available, I would be in front of the governors  _ this instant _ getting you sacked over what you did to Haley. I would then trip merrily down the hall to the Wizengamot, and send an owl to the Confederacy, detailing everything you have done. The  _ only _ reason you remain here is because I am too busy  _ teaching _ to perform the political aspects of your job! So here is what you  _ will _ do. You will tell that wet rag Quirrel that we have decided to go with someone else, you will hire Remus Lupin for the Defense position, and you will get of your bony arse and  _ do _ something about that thrice-bedamned “curse” that Tom Riddle left on the job so that the students get  _ consistent, qualified _ instruction in Defense.  _ Am I perfectly clear? _ ” Albus sat stunned, and nodded once, slowly. Minerva sniffed and held out her wand arm. “I will have your vow on that, Albus. As well as a vow that you will  _ respect _ Haley’s choices and use her chosen name. You’ve done that girl so much wrong that it’s the absolute  _ least _ that you can do.” Albus frowned at that, but clasped MInerva’s wand arm with his own.

“I Vow on my Magic, I will see that the Defense position is clear of any curse, that I will hire Remus Lupin for the job, that I will see to it he keeps it, and that I will respect har- _ haley’s _ name and choices.” Minerva nods again, drops his arm as if she couldn’t bare his touch, turns on her heel and stalks from the room. Albus looks at Fawkes, who gives a sniff and starts preening. The old wizard sighs, and starts drawing up the paperwork to employ Remus Lupin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We get Lupin two years early, Dumbledore gets a long overdue reality check, Haley and Remus start bonding, and Snape is...well, Snape. But a much improved one!! See you all next time.


	6. Badgers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Summer, and the Sorting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s move things along, shall we? And maybe give poor Minerva a break….maybe.

The rest of Haley’s summer passed in a golden haze, her days full of learning and exploring and such simple  _ joy _ that she was hard pressed not to lose it and start screaming. It was like being dropped into a honey-gold dreamscape. It was every single teledrama or movie she’d ever snuck a look at. It was perfect.

She didn’t trust it.

At least not at first. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but an eleven year old can only maintain suspicion for so long when everything around her is shouting in a million tiny ways  _ You’re safe. You’re okay. You’re protected. _

She still avoided the forest.

But that was just plain common sense, when you thought about it. Hagrid had told her of some of the creatures that lived there - she quite fancied getting to meet a Unicorn, or a Centaur. Less so the  _ giant venomous spiders the size of a Mini Cooper _ , no ruddy  _ thank you!  _ Normal sized spiders had ceased to hold any fear for Haley, they were the closest thing she’d ever had to a pet in her cupboard, but one the size of a  _ car _ was too much.

Still, once she relaxed and stopped waiting for some catastrophe or major revelation of how much other people had taken to screwing with her life, it was the kind of golden summer that people go to visit in their memory when they’re older.

There was one moment of brief panic. About two weeks before term started, Haley stumbled into the bathroom in the morning to use the necessary, and had a fuzzy feeling that something was...off. She stood staring down at herself for a moment, on the verge of “letting go”, when she yelped and got herself turned around just in time to sit so the spray went into the receptacle. She sat stunned for a moment, staring down again, then conscious of a lingering dampness, used the toilet paper for its purpose, wiping carefully, settling her nightgown, and then running shrieking out into the hall.

“REMUS!!!!” she stopped outside his door, pounding on it. “REMUS HELP!” to the man’s credit, he looked remarkably alert as he threw open the door, wand in hand, looking around wildly. When he spotted Haley, standing there white as her nightgown but not mortally wounded or in immediate danger, he slowed his breathing and frowned down at her.

“Haley, it’s too early for-”

“IT’S GONE!” she interrupted him, still at full volume but not as shrill “I know the potions were supposed to do something but nobody ever told me about THAT and I thought it’d be a gradual thing or I’d feel it or something and I woke up this morning and it was all different and  _ help! I don’t know what to do!” _ Remus blinked as Haley spat all that out in a rush, and then ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

“I assume you’re talking about your, erm,  _ plumbing _ . Haley, dear, breathe. Think about this, use that excellent mind I’ve enjoyed engaging this whole summer. What did you read in the Potions primer?” Haley bit her lower lip, Remus’ patient, calm tone helping calm her own panic as she closed her eyes and visualized the page. She’d found out rather quickly that if she put herself in the same sort of mental state that she used to practice occlumency, she could often recall entire pages of text, if she concentrated on remembering what the page looked like, and not the words on it.

“Certain potions can only act on the intent of the drinker, such as  _ Felix Felicis _ or potions meant to change the appearance. The notable exception being Polyjuice, which requires a reagent from the intended target…” she recited, then blinked, her mind making the leap on it’s own. “So if we combine that with the Wizarding Culture texts… “There are many recognized gender expressions in Magical Britain, and one may affect their presentation temporarily with Charms, Transfiguration, or Disillusionment. However, the best way to effect permanent or long-term alterations is with  _ Forma Vero Revelare _ , a potion that aligns the physical body with the Magical Core, which many believe is closely aligned with a person’s soul.”” she blushed and nodded “I remember, Remus, and I’m sorry for waking you, but you have to admit, it’s a bit of a shock…” Remus chuckled and ran his hand through his hair again, nodding.

“I Imagine so, dear...now, I’m going back to bed for a bit of a lie-in. I suggest you get some breakfast before Saoirsí sends someone to hunt you down and stick you to a stool in the corridor.” Since she had once done exactly that when Haley was intent on getting at one of the library books to do some research, Haley blushed and nodded, heading back to her own room and calling for the elf to order her breakfast. As she moved, she noted that her legs tended to rest against each other naturally now, rather than spreading a bit.

_ That makes sense I suppose...everything is inside now. Still, better watch the girls closely, try to move like they do.  _ Haley munched her way through breakfast, drank her potions, and got back to her routine. After that incident, the weeks flew by, and before she knew it, it was August 31st. Turns out her self-made calendar at the Dursley’s had been off by...quite a bit.  _ Bound to happen when you’re starved and in the same routine every day. _ She checked her reflection in the mirror in what had been “her” room for the last six weeks. This was probably going to be the last time she slept in this particular room, so she had packed up  _ everything _ into her trunk. She’d had breakfast and was getting ready to travel to King’s Cross station. It was decided that it would be best if she rode the Express rather than trying to insert her inconspicuously once the rest of her year arrived at the castle.

“Besides, it’s a tradition.” Minerva had said primly when they told Haley of the decision last week. The high-calorie diet they had her on, as well as the supplemental potions, had done a lot to fill her out. She was still small, and likely always would be compared to her peers, and still very skinny. 11 years of malnutrition wasn’t undone in a month and a half, but she no longer looked like the slightest autumn breeze would blow her away.

Outside the air was crisp, with just the barest hint of the bitter bite of turning leaves. Haley grinned to herself. Autumn was her favorite time of year. Before it had been because Autumn was the only time working in Petunia’s garden had been even mildly enjoyable, and because on Halloween, Dudley got so much candy that nobody could keep track, and Haley often managed to steal a nice little stash that she’d squirrel away for herself as emergency food. Always things like packets of Smarties or those individually wrapped bars. Nothing that would attract ants and thus give away its location.

It struck Haley that this year, she wouldn’t have to do that. She beamed at herself in the mirror, and covered her face as tears sprang to her eyes. She wiped them quickly, then hit the shrink gem on her trunk and shoved it in the pocket of her jumper. She whistled for Hedwig, backing it up with a little nudge from Hogwarts’ magic, and momentarily the snowy owl was perched on the windowsill.

“Gotta make it look good, girl. A few hours and you’ll be back in your warm owlery. Haley set a tray of owl treats and a dish of water in the cage, and held it open for Hedwig. It was a spherical type, and swung open on the equator with a couple hinges. Much more comfortable than the cages with a tiny “door” on them that had to be squeezed through, and much easier for Hedwig to pick open with her beak if something happened. Haley had spent a great amount of time in the owl’s company over her stay at the castle, and had come to realize that she was gifted with better than average intelligence. If she had the right larynx, she could probably speak English. As such, Haley had taken to treating her like a partner - as one should a familiar - rather than a simple parcel-carrier.

Trunk and Owl secure, she darted out of her room and met Minerva waiting at the end of the hall, looking at her pocket watch.

“Hrm. We’ll have to step lively to make it on time.” was all she said, but Haley coughed and blushed all the same.

“Sorry, Professor. Just a few things I got reminded of. I’m ready.” Haley shuffled a foot, and Minerva just nodded.

“Well, it’s not too far off the mark. Off we go then.” they trooped out to the perimeter of the grounds, past the wards, and Minerva apparated them to one of the hidden spots around London for the purpose. It was the closest to King’s Cross, but it was still about a five minute brisk walk. Haley wrapped the heavy velvet cover over Hedwig’s cage, who gave an appreciative sleepy hoot at the darkness and muffled noise. Haley felt the particular tickle in the back of her mind that was Hedwig’s way of saying “good night” and grinned a bit as she stayed just short of trotting to keep up with Minerva, who was true to her word making the most of her long stride, tartan skirt and forest green overcoat swirling around her with the breeze of her passing. This cut such an imposing figure that most people flowed out of her way while barely being aware they’d done so.

Haley still thought it looked better with the hat, but even for London that was a bit too much.

They arrived at the station at about half eight, and Minerva led Haley unerringly to platform 9, pointing out the barrier between 9 and 10.

“Here’s where I leave you, dear. Teachers almost never take the Express unless there’s something wrong, and I don’t want to disturb the other students. I’ll see you back at the Castle. Remember, spells are  _ technically _ not allowed on the train. I know for a fact Remus has been teaching you things, and I suspect Filius has. Just...don’t do anything irreversible, hm?” Minerva leaned in a bit to get her point across, and Haley nodded. The scots witch smiled and straightened up, then gave her a final pat on the shoulder and melted off into the crowds. Haley stood a moment, then looked around the station. She’d never been on the underground, and she found the crowd utterly fascinating. She stood transfixed for so long she lost track of time, until there was a shout of “LOOK OUT” and something cannoned into her from behind, knocking her forward. Anyone else would have gone sprawling and likely skinned a hand or knee, but Haley had been taking falls all her life, and had taken to practicing tumbling to fill the time between her reading when she found an old manuscript on it in the library. She wasn’t winning any medals, but she’d learned from the harshest and most efficient teacher of all - her own bruises - how to tumble out of most falls. Rather than flinging her hands straight forward as most people would, she curled them in and threw her right shoulder under her left hip, curving her spine and cushioning Hedwig’s cage with her body, silently thanking FIlius for putting a cushioning charm on the inside and making the bars nearly impervious to crushing. She rolled once and came up smooth, pivoting as she did so and planting her hands on her hips. Hedwig gave an indignant hiss and the cage rattled as she mantled to right herself. Haley murmured to her a moment, peeking through the velvet curtain. The owl peered out at her, fluffing out her feathers as she got herself righted and back on her perch. Then she snapped her beak and peered behind her, in the direction of whatever had sent Haley tumbling.

“OI!” she barked, marching back over to the young man with flaming red hair who was standing behind a baggage trolley with a dumbfounded expression. She took a breath to give him a piece of her mind, channeling Pomona all the way, when he blurted out

“That was bloody  _ brilliant!” _ The compliment took her aback, and stole the wind from her sails. She blinked at him a moment, then folded her arms over her chest.

“That’s not an apology, mate.” she said flatly, all of her fear for Hedwig joining with her indignation of being toppled and turning into anger. Not quite the rage she felt in Gringotts, but it had a similar effect, her mind snapping cold and speeding up. The older boy had the sense to blush and duck his head.

“Right, sorry Miss. Lost control of the trolley, think it’s got a stuck wheel…” he gestured down, and sure enough, one of the wheels was stuck at about a 45 degree angle from the others. Haley sniffed, and nodded.

“Well...I suppose.” she was saved from thinking of how to extricate herself when a rather matronly figure, also with red hair, followed by a gaggle of children came rushing up.

“Fred! For goodness sake! You’re not hurt, are you dearie?” she looked over Haley, and was surprised to see that other than a slight bit of schmutz from the platform floor, she looked all right. “Go on, apologise to the girl, then.” she said exasperatedly. The young man clenched his jaw and opened his mouth, and Haley held up a hand.

“He actually just did, it’s all right. No harm done. His trolley has a stuck wheel.” she pointed down to it, then forced her mouth into a smile despite her internal feeling. She knew that particular tensed jaw look, that defeated set to the shoulders, that slight nearly imperceptible eye roll. They were all intimately familiar to her. She immediately wanted to get as far away from this woman as humanly possible.

“Well, all settled, I’ll be off, yeah? Train to catch.” She turned on her heel and started walking towards the barrier, hoping that her small size would help her hide in the crowds, but there seemed to be a bit of a void right in front of the spot Minerva had pointed out to her as the entry to platform nine-and-three-quarters. She reached it and looked around, and saw the red-haired family all staring at her as they practically followed her into the area.

“Erm…” Haley said awkwardly, and was saved by the oldest of the lot clearing his throat.

“Here for the Express to Scotland, then?” he asked carefully, reaching into a sleeve and pulling out just enough of a wand to be visible. Haley smiled at him, and nodded.

“Yeah, first time. I’m Haley.” she brushed back her bangs a bit from where they’d fallen over her face, and saw the entire lot of them blanche. She tilted her head, and it was the matron who recovered first.

“Well...I’m Molly Weasely dear. This is Percy, you already met Fred, that’s his twin George, and this here is Ron. It’s his first time too. Erm...if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you something, once we’re clear of the crowds?” well. She was at least more polite than Petunia, and since there appeared to be no avoiding it….

“All right, yeah.” Haley nodded, then turned to the barrier on her heel and took a deep breath, taking a couple running steps. There was a brief moment of blackness, and it was like she’d stepped a hundred years in the past. There was a  _ proper _ steam train, complete with outdoor platform, and porters hustling about loading things. Haley took her trunk to the check-in to her immediate left, unshrunk it, and left it and Hedwig with the Head Porter, who smiled and winked at her. She smiled back and stepped to the side to wait for the Weasleys. They came through in order from oldest to youngest, with Ron’s heels dogged by his mother and little sister. They got their luggage checked in, the porter repeating his smile-and-wink for the little girl, who hid behind her mother. The group made its way over to her, and she folded her arms behind her and tilted her head. To most it looked like she was just a bit shy, but she felt the wand holster on her wrist and was immediately comforted. Minerva hadn’t been wrong, and if there was anything inappropriate afoot, Haley intended to make one hell of a scene.

“So, Haley, was it? Erm, if you don’t mind my asking, where did you get that scar?” Molly asked as soon as she could. Haley considered playing it off, but she looked around at the group and saw their varying expressions. Percy looked mildly confused, the twins were doing a good job of hiding shrewd looks behind bland faces, and Ron looked completely gobsmacked.

The little girl, whose name she was never given, looked oddly disappointed.

Haley sighed, and nodded.

“My full name is Haley Potter. No, I don’t have a twin brother named Harry. I am the only child of James and Lily.  _ Please don’t make a scene. _ ” she begged, seeing the eyes of the Weasleys widening. Molly took a quick look around, and cleared her throat.

“Quite right, yes. We’d have a mob...well. Your parents were friends with my husband and I...after what happened, we told Dumbledore that we’d be happy to look after you, but he insisted on sending you to your Muggle relatives. Speaking of which, why are you here alone? I’d think they wouldn’t just... _ drop off _ an eleven year old...girl.” the hesitance over her gender sealed it in Haley’s mind. She Did Not Like Molly. Capitals very much included.  _ Well..she asked! _ Said a nasty little part of her mind. She shrugged and grinned brightly.

“Oh, I don’t live with them anymore. Min-erm, Professor McGonagall came and took me away about six weeks ago, when the latest beating got too much. I hadn’t eaten yet that week, you see, and it being a Wednesday, well, I was a bit off-kilter. The blood loss was what really cinched it.” She got a certain vicious satisfaction out of watching the blood drain from Molly’s face. She felt a bit sorry for Percy and Ron, who were similarly blanched, and far less deserving.

The twins, on the other hand...their blank looks probably appeared to be surprised to anyone else, but their color was high, and their eyes were speculative. She made a note to talk to them as soon as possible once they were alone. Chances are they’d rebuff her, but she had to try. The signs she was seeing were not good.

“You poor thing...if Arthur and I had known…” Molly began, tears standing in her eyes. Haley shrugged.

“Well. Since Professor McGonagall was the only one checking in on me, how would you have?” it sounded kind, like an absolution, but that same feral corner of Haley’s mind grinned daggers as Molly rocked back a bit. Haley decided she’d had enough.

“If you’ll excuse me, it was lovely meeting you all, but I want to get a compartment before they’re all full.” Percy gave a start at that, mentioned something about a Prefect’s meeting and bustled off. Haley turned on her heel with a nod and headed for the last carriage in line, figuring it’d be the last to fill and thus would leave her unnoticed the longest.

She wasn’t wrong. It was utterly silent in the carriage, and she chose the very last compartment, sighing as she slumped in the seat.  _ Morrigan, Merlin, and Mad Queen Mab I did  _ not _ want to start term like that. Bugger it. I’m going to enjoy this if it kills me, and I won’t let wild imaginings ruin it for me. I might have been imagining everything! _

She relaxed in the empty compartment a good twenty minutes before the twins stuck their heads in the door, then without a by-your-leave stepped in, shut the door and sat down across from Haley. For her part, she flicked her wrist and had her wand out, not pointed at either of them, but conspicuous.

“Whoa there! We just-”

“-want to talk! No need to be-”

“-so jumpy!” The twinspeak only phased her a moment before she eyed them warily.

“A girl alone with two older, larger boys in the last compartment of the last carriage.” is all she said, and the twins shared a look, then nodded and one of them reached over and opened the door.

“Sorry. Weren’t thinking of how that looked. Just-”

“-didn’t want anyone to hear. So...you’re Haley Potter.” they paused there, and Haley nodded, waiting and still eyeing them both. The one on the right sighed.

“Well, Gred, we’ve made a right cock-up of this.”

“I think you’re right, Forge. Look, Haley, we don’t give a rat’s twisted tailbone about anything that may or may not have happened eleven years ago...but you are interesting, and my other half and I would like to get to know you. Let’s just call this “well met”, and say we’ll be seeing you, eh?” Haley nodded, relaxing a little, stowing her wand back in it’s holster. Fred and George smiled and bounced up, waving and heading back down the corridor, talking animatedly about someone named Lee and his new pet tarantula. Haley let her head fall back, and was just starting to fully relax again when another redhead invaded, this time not even knocking and sticking his head in first.

“Cor, it really is you, Ha-erm, Haley! Wicked!” Haley groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“Look...Ron, is it? Please don’t. In case you didn’t pick it up out there, I’ve had a less than fantastic time so far, and I really don’t want people calling me  _ wicked _ before they even know me! Just because some psychopath blew himself up after killing my parents when I was a  _ baby!”  _ Okay. She definitely was not handling this well.  _ Mental note: Crowds, bad. _ Especially after encountering what her mind labeled “Dursely 2.0 ‘but I’m just saying, cuz I WUV YOU” edition.  _ Six months also can’t undo eleven years of traumatic stress. Who'da thunk?! Oh you are  _ so _ writing to your mind healer tonight. _ Haley thought to herself. She’d been introduced to the Magi equivalent of a therapist somewhere around week three. They’d agreed that rather than interrupt Haley’s school routine with regular appointments, they’d meet regularly during breaks, and speak through owl-post during term. A bit clunky, but it was the best they could manage.

Haley raised her head a little to look at the boy across from her, who was vacillating between shock and outrage. Haley took pity.

“Look, don’t worry about it, yeah? Just maybe think a bit before saying the first thing that comes to mind.” she said gently, giving him a half-smile. At the look of relief, she just shook her head before stretching and sitting up fully.

“So...I’ve been reading some books, but tell me what it’s like being raised as a Magi.” she leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees with her feet turned inward. Ron blinked at her a moment, then shrugged.

“I mean...it’s pretty much normal, y’know? Pranks and stuff, listening to the wireless on holidays, Mum going mental when one of us acts up, getting scolded…” he looked slightly uncomfortable, and Haley sat back with a nod.

“Yeah...yeah I guess. I just...never had that, y’know? The day the Professor saved me was the worst, but even the best days weren’t great, weren’t  _ normal _ . Plus, well, some muggles have really backwards ideas about the whole boy-girl thing so I was trapped in the wrong body. Not that I knew that until  _ after _ I was rescued, but it was still there y’know?” she smiled a bit, trying to lessen the harshness. “Sorry, I’m not great company. I understand if you want to find a different compartment.” she tried to look like it really didn’t matter to her, but Ron shook his head.

“Hey, no way. You’ve had it rough,  _ really _ rough. But you’re out now, yeah? Hey wait a minute, if you’ve been taken from your relatives that means you’re a Ward, so you’ve been at the castle this whole time! Why did you come all the way to London just to take the train back?” Haley winced, and shrugged.

“The Professors all got together and decided it would be better, help me fit in more, y’know?” Ron nodded, and looked up as a witch came by pushing a trolley. Haley looked it all over, and her stomach grumbled, reminding her it had been quite a while since breakfast. She knew if she didn’t eat something, Saoirsí would choose the most embarrassing and  _ public _ moment to remind her of that fact. Her eyes darted over the selection, and she was about to pick out a few things that didn’t look too sugar-packed and useless when she noted Ron looking longingly at everything and fingering a rather sad looking slightly squashed sandwich. Haley made a snap decision and turned back to the witch.

“Some of everything, please. Though...if you’ve iced tea instead of pumpkin juice, that’d be best.” She smiled a bit shyly, and the witch eyed her a little, then nodded. “All right then...that’ll be-” Haley moved closer and held up a few galleons, blocked by her body. “Use the extra for people who need it, yeah?” she whispered, looking serious. “If that runs out, let me know. Nobody goes hungry on this train while I’m on it.” the witch eyed Haley, her height and rather thin frame, the look that one gets when one has spent far too long uncertain about their next meal, and the still heavy-looking pouch on her belt.

“You’d be Lily’s daughter, then. You know, your mother told me much the same thing, once. Welcome to Hogwarts, dear. I’ll take care of it.” she whisked the gold away without letting Ron see it, and Haley beamed and helped unload her purchases on the spare bench space as well as the little fold-down table.

“Oh, watch those every-flavor beans. They  _ mean _ every flavor. I got a bogey one once…” Ron warned her a while later. They’d spent a companionable time methodically working through the sweets and other foods, and Haley had even shown Ron how to make the sad little sandwich a bit more palatable by putting a layer of crisps on it. He’d shared half with her. About that time, a rather thick head of brown hair popped into the door of their compartment.

“Hello, sorry, have either of you seen a toad? Neville’s lost his…” she asked without preamble. She was about their age, with skin darker than Haley’s. Her hair was almost black, but the sunlight revealed it was a very dark brown, about the color of walnut wood. Haley shook her head, and so did Ron.

“No toads here...we’ll keep an eye out though.” Haley said, smiling at the other girl. She looked stunned a moment, then hesitantly smiled back.

“Okay, yeah...thanks. Uhm, I…” just then a cry of “TREVOR” echoed from the corridor, and the girl leaned back out to see “Just ran out of things to do...erm…” she looked back in, then her eyes really took in the interior of the compartment, with the sweets all over, and her eyes widened. “Blimey! All that for the two of you?” she exclaimed, then her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry I...I’ll g-...sorry.” and she turned to rush away, when Haley leaped from the seat and caught her shoulder.

“Hey, wait! It’s all right, c’mon. We meant to share it with anyone who stopped in, I’m Haley, it’s my first time and...well I went a bit nuts. C’mon, sit, share a bit with me and Ron?” she pleaded, and slowly the other girl lowered her hands. Haley registered she was rather pretty, and smiled again, reaching down to take her hand and gently lead her into the compartment.

“Oh...uhm...thanks. I’m Hermione, Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you.” she gave a hesitant, shy smile, and Haley felt Hermione tapping the knuckle of the middle finger of her hand. She looked down, and Hermione blushed again and looked away, face screwing up in concentration as she made herself stop. Haley gently let go of her hand and smiled.

“It’s all right, I didn’t mind. Hermione, that’s a great name. Greek princess, right?” Hermione looked impressed that Haley knew, and nodded, her hand flapping in what Haley was pretty sure was excitement.

“Right, right!” she pointed “And your name is scandinavian! It means Hero!” the girl bounced and hopped up on a seat “that’s so cool. Hermione just ends up running off with her cousin or something after the Trojan war and is never heard from again. Uhm...why are you banging your head on the table?” Haley was indeed rhythmically banging her head on the table, while Ron laughed uproariously.

“Oh, mate, that’s just too rich!” the redhead said when he could breathe again. “You chose your own name, and  _ still _ ended up with something like that!” Hermione looked confused between the two, and finally Haley sighed and muttered something to herself before raising her head.

“My name is Haley Potter.” she said simply, then pulled back her bangs to show the scar. A light went off in Hermione’s eyes and she gave a shocked little giggle as the irony sank in.

“You change your gender, choose your own  _ name _ , and still get “hero”? Ron’s right, that’s...that’s really ironic. Why  _ did _ you choose that?” she asked, and Haley shrugged.

“It’s close to my old name, so it would be easy to remember, and it doesn’t sound like someone’s maiden aunt…” she muttered, flushing and looking down at her lap. After a moment, Hermione’s hand comes to rest on top of hers.

“It’s a really pretty name. It can also mean “hay field”, so you’re not completely stuck. I read about you in  _ A brief history of Magic _ . Though they use your other name there. Was that a trick to throw off Voldemort, or…?” She saw Ron twitch and hiss at the name, but ignored him. Haley shook her head.

“No...I just didn’t know being a girl was a choice I got to make until about six weeks ago. It’s complicated.” she shrugged. There was no need to traumatize this girl with details of her past, but Hermione nodded in understanding.

“My parents are real progressive types, so when I got The Talk on my birthday this year they made sure I knew all about things like that. “Better you find out from us than your friends” they said...not that I had any, but still. It was a nice sentiment, I guess?” Haley began idly wondering just how many people’s parents she would want to murder before the year was over. The list was already two entries too long for what should be “normal”.

“From what I can tell, Magical Britain is a lot more accepting of things like that than muggles. I read this book  _ Wizarding culture: So you’re accidentally a half-blood _ . From what I learned, my dad was probably from an old wizard family, but Mum had muggle parents, so I guess I’m a half-blood?” Haley shrugged “I don’t put much stock in it, but I’m Heir to two or three medium-sized fortunes, and some political appointments unless I choose proxies.” she makes a face “Not sure how I feel about that. Right now I have Gringotts handling all of it.” Hermione looked shocked, and Ron looked wistful.

“Blimey...I-” he paused a second, then shook his head “Nope. Not finishing that sentence. That’s...maybe not the kind of thing you casually bandy about, eh? There’s lots of people that might resent you for it, and some that’d even try to act like your friend, hoping for handouts.” Ron said instead, and while Haley rolled her eyes a little, she did recognize that he was trying, so she nodded and took it in the spirit it was meant.

“Thanks, Ron, but really I’m kind of...fine with that. Not that I’d believe them, but it’s not anything I  _ earned _ , and if I can make people happy by spreading it around, why not? It says more about them than me if they’re insincere.” She’d been having a lot of conversations with Remus about it. Admittedly, she was doing more parroting than paraphrasing right now. The words he said just made so much more sense than the ones she would have used. At least to her, and apparently to her two new...acquaintances? Friends? Was this how friends happened? Either way, they were both nodding thoughtfully.

“Anyway I can’t keep it secret. The Potter name alone will get me noticed by the other purebloods, apparently, and not for Voldemort reasons. It’s an old name, tracing back to the Peverells, who were one of the earliest Wizarding families.” she sighed, and shrugged. “It’s really all a lot more trouble than it’s worth, if I’m being honest. I’d give anything to be...well...normal. If I could get rid of the lot and keep just enough for school and some pocket money, I’d do it, but there’s a lot of things there I literally  _ can’t _ get rid of, and some things that I  _ shouldn’t _ .” she looks between them, biting her lower lip. “Uhm...sorry. That might be a bit of a shock, I...haven’t had many people to talk to about this.” she furrowed her brow as first Hermione, then Ron shook their heads.

“Haley, it’s all right. Well, it  _ is _ a bit shocking but, it sounds like you need a friend more than anything. I’ll ha-” Hermione was interrupted by the door sliding open and a round-faced boy with a toad bouncing in.

“Hermione, hermione, I found him! Thank you so much!” he said, then blushed and shuffled a bit as he noticed the other two children. “Oh, erm…’lo.” Hermione gave the boy a bright smile.

“That’s great Neville! Haley, Ron, this is Neville Longbottom. Neville, this is Ron Weaseley, and this is Haley Potter.” Ron waved and looked at what the boy had in his hands, and Haley gave a shy smile and tucked her hair behind her ear. Neville gave her an odd, intense look, then gave a half-bow.

“Well met, Heir Potter. Congratulations on finding your truth.” Neville said, suddenly stiff and more than a little awkward. Haley blinked, and then tilted her head.

“Well met..Heir Longbottom? My thanks, though I do hope you’ll not stand on ceremony. I’m just Haley, if I can call you Neville? I’d very much like to meet this mysterious Trevor who I’ve been hearing about.” she smiled at him, and he relaxed with a blush.

“Of course, erm, Trevor is my toad. He likes to go on adventures, and he forgets to take me along.” Haley giggled at the joke, as did Ron and Hermione. Neville showed off Trevor, who looked around him with a toadish placidity and a slight twinkle of intelligence and mischief. From the trickle of magic Haley could sense flowing from Neville to the toad, he was the boy's familiar, and well matched.

“He’s brilliant, loads better than Scabbers.” Ron reached into his shirt pocket and gently extracted a rat, which gave a sleepy squeak of protest and blinked around at the carriage. “He belonged to my older brother Bill. He’s really old, must be some kind of magical rat or something, but mostly he just sleeps. He’s useless.” Ron said in a sort of exasperated, but fond tone. Hermione looked around the compartment, and sighed.

“My parents wouldn’t let me get a pet, not until next year they said. Apparently eleven is old enough to learn about sex, but still too young to be trusted with a pet.” she rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of parents, and a communal sigh echoed in the carriage. Then they all looked at each other and started laughing, joined in camaraderie by the ridiculousness of parental figures.

It was as they were calming from their laughter that the compartment door opened a final time, and a white-blond haired boy flanked by two hulking brutes stood framed in it.

“I heard that Heir Potter was on the train, this is the last carriage I’ve checked, is he here?” the boys announced importantly, as his eyes swept the compartment. “Hm...well met Heir Longbottom. Pardon the intrusion,” he breezed past Neville without waiting for a reply, then turned to Ron “Oh, red hair, secondhand robes, and a reek of poverty. You  _ must _ be a Weasley.” his eyes slid over Hermione and Haley as beneath his notice, and he huffed. “I guess he’s not-”

“ _ SHE _ is right here, and  _ you _ apparently still don’t listen to yourself when you speak.” Haley stood and smoothed her dress, folded her arms and let her Potter Ring ficker into sight on her right hand as the blond boy gaped. “Heir Malfoy, I presume? I do apologise for not greeting you properly in Diagon, but I had just been rescued from my muggle relatives’ house, and they told me nothing. However, you’ve been very rude to my friends so far,  _ almost _ as rude as you were to me in Madam Malkins’. I beg the pleasure of your absence, until you learn better manners.” she delivered all of that in a frosty cold tone, channeling Minerva all the way, pages from books of etiquette flying through her mind at top speed, entire paragraphs jumping out at her and letting her know  _ just _ what to say. She really didn’t want to completely alienate the boy, but  _ Merlin _ did his attitude bring out the worst in her.  _ Is Hate at First Sight a thing? It is now. _ She thought to herself. Sensing that their leader had been snubbed, the two brutes cracked their knuckles and started forward. With a twitch of her wrist and a snap of her arm, Haley’s wand was pointed steadily at them.

“I wouldn’t.” is all she said, radiating confidence the whole time. It was more than half a bluff, she knew some nuisance-hexes that she’d badgered Remus into teaching her, and all she’d really learned from Filius were some grounding basics that would come in handy during term. Still,  _ they _ didn’t know that, and she read that most pureblood families managed to give their children unofficial education at home, defeating the Trace by flooding an area with magic so it was impossible to tell who had cast what. Besides, her wand  _ had _ no Trace on it. Ragnok had shaded into the gray side of legal and stripped it for her on one of her trips to Gringotts to get updates on her accounts.  _ “A warrior never lets their weapon be bound.” _ was all he’d said, and gave her a significant look. She still wasn’t sure what that was all about, but she hadn’t told Remus about it, and saw no reason to mention it to anyone else unless given no choice.

“Crabbe. Goyle.” Malfoy snapped, then turned burning eyes back on Haley “You’ll regret that, Potter.” he jerked his head as he turned, and his flunkies followed as he moved back up the train. Haley let out the breath she’d been holding and slumped into her seat again. Ron was ethusing, Nevile looked at her with something disturbingly like hero worship, and Hermione was frowning.

“But...we’re not allowed to use magic on the train! You could have gotten yourself expelled before the first day!” she fussed, fidgeting and tapping her knuckles. Haley rolled her head to the side and gave a small smile.

“Apparently,  _ they _ didn’t know that. Besides, I was bluffing. The most I could have done was give them a really nasty itch” she took a deep breath, then looked out the window to see the sun setting. “Getting close to school. Scoot, boys. We need to change into our robes.” she shooed Ron and Neville out, closing the door and drawing the curtains. Hermione looked around and blushed.

“Uhm...I left mine in my trunk…” she began, and Haley glanced on the window again to cover feeling for her distance from Hogwarts. She thought she was close enough, and gave Hermione a conspiritorial wink as she murmured

“Saoirsí, If you can hear me, can you get Hermione and I’s robes from our trunks?” a long moment later, and the elf popped into the carriage with hardly a sound, looking nonplussed.

“I thought I told ye t’ keep a set with ye. Ye knew ye’d have to change on the train…” she scolded, and Hermione squeaked. At the noise, the elf turned and smiled, bowing low.

“Pardon me, lass. Saoirsí o’ Høgéwaþ, at yer service. A friend o’ Haley’s is a friend o’ mine. I’ll leave ye twain t’ get changed.” She shook a finger at Haley “Don’t be doin’ this again. Yer barely in range, an’ only because we’re bonded.” and she disappeared with another soft pop. Haley grinned unrepentant, and handed Hermione’s clothes to her.

“She’s really nice, just gruff. Here, hurry, or the boys’ll get suspicious.” she stripped without a second thought, quickly slipping on the blouse, vest and skirt. She was already wearing her boots, since they went just as well with the dress and jumper she’d been wearing. Over it all she clipped her school robe, something between a cloak and a greatcoat, with a hood to keep rain off and deep pockets. She turned to find Hermione half dressed, staring at her with an ashy-pale expression.

“H-how did you get th-those…”  _ oh BUGGER _ Haley mentally shouted at herself. She sighed and helped Hermione finish dressing, talking to her softly.

“My muggle relatives. They were awful. But I’m okay now, one of the professors saved me. Really, it’s all right. Well, it’s  _ not _ because it never is, but they can’t hurt me anymore, okay? Here, your tie is all crooked…” she finished fixing Hermione up, then opened the door for the boys and stepped into the hall. “All yours, lads. Don’t dawdle, we’ll be there any minute.” Ron let out a snort, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself, and Neville just smiled and slipped into the compartment. A few moments and a tense conversation later, Hermione was wiping away tear tracks with a handkerchief and Haley was hugging her and quietly whispering to her how she was  _ okay _ , really.

_ She’s genuinely upset on my behalf...that’s...well that’s new. I guess… _

“Hermione...are we friends?” she asked as they waited for the boys to finish. Hermione looked taken a bit aback at the question, but then smiled and nodded.

“Yes...yes I rather think we are. My first friend. Wow.” she said in wonder, just as the door opened.

“About time you two. We were wondering if we were going to arrive before you finished. Here, help me clean this up. Everyone take however much of whatever they want, I’ve had my fill…” they set about picking up all the uneaten food and putting the wrappers in the little rubbish bin under the folding table, then made sure everyone had all their stuff, and Neville had tight hold of Trevor as the train decelerated, then stopped at the station with a final blast of steam and a long blow of the whistle.

They joined the throng on the platform, and looked around in confusion a moment, until Haley heard a familiar voice.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years o’er here! Firs’ years to me!” Hagrid stood head and shoulders over the crowd, and Haley gave a big wave as she grabbed Ron and Hermione’s hands, Hermione snagging Neville’s as she dragged them all over to the giant man.

“Hagrid!” Haley enthused, despite having seen him only last night. She liked the gruff, somewhat awkward man. He was  _ kind _ down to his bootsoles, and knew a great deal about the Forrest and Lake.

“All righ’ there, Haley? Oh, an’ ye made friends already! Good on yer!” Haley nodded enthusiastically, introducing everyone quickly before Hagrid resumed calling. After only a few more minutes, he looked around.

“That everyone? Great. Well, follow me then, step lively!” he called out, turning and striding off onto the grounds. He led them not on the path Haley expected, but at an angle from the main path to the gates. Just as Haley was about to ask where they were going, she recognized the little dock at the far end of the Black Lake, and her eyes lit up. She’d wondered what it was for, and a little flotilla of boats waited there now, each with a lit lantern in the fore. “Into the boats, no rough-housin’!” Hagrid called to a pair who were beginning to do just that. The gaggle of children all scrambled into boats, Haley sharing with Hermione and Ron with Neville. Haley peered about her just the same as the rest, having never seen this approach to the castle before. Once the boats reached the dock at the other end of the lake, everyone piled out and followed Hagrid up to the front doors of the castle, currently closed.

He gave a booming knock, and Minerva McGonagall, looking stately and severe, opened the doors. She peered at the students as if they were a group of trick-or-treaters on hallowe’en.

“Brough’ th’ firs’ years, Professor.” Hagrid said solemnly, and the older witch nodded, pulling the door fully open.

“Thank you Hagrid. Now, form a line, please, and follow me.” Minerva said sternly, and only Haley, who’d spent a great deal of time with her, caught the amused twinkle in her eye. Minerva was enjoying herself to the hilt. She led them across the Entrance Hall to a little side room off the Great Hall, and turned to address the group.

“In a moment you will enter the Great Hall and join the Feast. You will remain in line until your name is called, when you will be Sorted into your houses. Remain here.” and she turned on her heel and strode through a little door. Ron fidgeted next to her, and she looked sideways at him.

“Fred and George said we had to wrestle a Troll…” he muttered anxiously, and Haley was hard-pressed to keep from laughing aloud.

“I don’t think the Professor would allow that.” she said instead, looking around. “Probably it’s some sort of personality test or something.” The method had been kept from her, quite strictly, but she knew some of the basics.

“Each of the houses emphasize different things, y’know? Gryffindor is bravery and integrity, Ravenclaw is wisdom and learning, Slytherin is ambition and cunning, and Hufflepuff is loyalty and honesty. At least that’s what I was told.” she was deliberately playing dumb here. She knew very well what the Founders prized...and she was worried. She couldn’t pick. They  _ all _ seemed important.

Around her various nervous speculations floated, then some nit shrieked and pointed up as a parade of ghosts passed overhead. Haley waved at Nicholas and the Grey Lady. Nick waved back jovially, and the Grey Lady inclined her head with - the pun was inevitable - a ghost of a smile on her face. The Baron came next, and while Haley wasn’t really  _ afraid _ of him, he wasn’t the type of personality one got close to. Finally there was Peeves, on his best behavior in that he wasn’t pelting anybody with anything, likely owing to the Baron’s proximity. He was still Peeves, though, so he was yelling all sorts of rude nonsense and bouncing around the room, pulling faces to make people scream. Finally the Baron gave him a look, and his latest careen took him through the wall and away.

The children were still chattering away as Professor McGonagall returned, got them back into order, and they trooped into the Hall. Haley had never seen it like this, lit with a thousand floating candles that blended with the perfectly rendered night sky overhead. Haley spent most of the Sorting in a daze, only after the first half dozen had joined their house tables did she look to the front and see someone trying on a very battered hat that muttered for a moment, then called out “GRYFFINDOR”, to applause from all around as the boy went over to the table decked out in red-and-gold. Haley wondered at that for a moment until a name caught her attention.

“Granger, Hermione,” Professor McGonall called, and Hermione nervously stepped out of line and put the hat on. A tense five minutes passed as the hat grumbled and muttered, then finally called out “HUFFLEPUFF!” and Hermione went to join the table laid with yellow and black. Haley grinned, knowing her friend was in good hands. She really liked Pomona-  _ Professor Sprout! _ She reminded herself fiercely as she recalled the afternoons spent in the Greenhouse. A couple days after Haley arrived, the Devil’s Snare was removed, and she’d come to enjoy working with the plants. Sprout had a bluff and heart manner, and made Haley feel warm and cozy.

The line shrank, and Neville followed Hermione to Hufflepuff. Haley grinned, and waited her turn. She was unprepared for what came.

“Potter, Haley!” Professor McGonagall called, and there was a beat of silence before whispers started. Haley walked to the front of the Hall supremely aware that everyone was staring at her, then turning to whisper to their neighbors. She felt very self-concious, and curled into herself as she walked, hunching over and crossing her arms to grip at the edges of her robe, trying to hide in it and watch everything at once. Minerva gave her an encouraging smile as she reached the stool, picked up the hat, sat down, and set it on her head.

_ OH! Oh, hello. I’ve been waiting quite some time for you, Keeper.  _ She heard in her mind. She noticed that she heard nothing with her ears. The Hat was completely silent, save for that voice in her head.

_ Erm...hullo _ she thought back, and felt a flicker of warmth from Hogwarts herself.

_ Well...let’s have a look, shall we? I’ll need you to thin your shields a bit, please...very impressive, those are. You’d make a good Slytherin...yes.... _ She felt the Hat reviewing her memories. If it had been a human, she’d have been angry, but she felt the awareness of the Hat was so incredibly  _ other _ that she didn’t feel that response.

_ Oh. Oh, you poor girl. Many who were hurt have passed under my brim, and usually I just pass them to their houses and let them be sorted, but you...no. No, this is too much. You need something more. No...Slytherin is too cold and calculating for you..Ravenclaw too stiff...Gryffindor would be about right, but they’re a bit too ostentatious, so it better be _

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The hall exploded into noise...and Albus Dumbledore shot to his feet and shouted with the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No, I’m not sorry for that cliffhanger. That was the perfect place to end the chapter. yell at me on Tumblr, gwynthemoose.


	7. In Defense of Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haley meets her house, Peeves is Peeves, and we see more of Albus' thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Misgendering, deadnaming, intolerance and general asshattery at the end of the chapter. Skip everything after the final *** break. I'll put a summary in the end notes.
> 
> Welcome back! You didn’t think I’d just leaving you hanging there, did you?  
> A few notes before we dive in:  
> The characters have begun running away with the story on me. This is actually a good thing, for me, as it means less chance of stalling out. We’ve already diverged from Cannon quite a bit here, but expect it to take a sharp left turn and keep going.
> 
> My GOD there are like...four interesting Hufflepuffs during cannon!Harry’s years. I hope ya’ll don’t mind OCs. I gotta fill up this house.
> 
> Tonks is a 7th year this term. Oh god.

Haley cringed under the Hat at the explosion of noise, and to hear Dumbledore’s strong baritone rising over it all was even worse. She’d yet to even see the Headmaster, and the _anger_ clear in his voice was altogether too much like being yelled at by Vernon in a rage. It lacked the whiney quality, but it was similar enough to convince her hindbrain that she _was in danger_ . She huddled in on herself, mentally repeating _help, help, make him stop, help, no more, pleASE MAKE HIM STOP!_

“SIIIIILLLLEEEEENNNNNCCCCCEEEEEE!” roared through the hall. The sound shook and seemed to be echoed by the stones of the castle itself. Haley clapped her hands over her ears, and so did everyone else in the hall. When the noise died, Haley dared peek out from under the Hat, and saw that four portrait frames over the fire in the center of the left wall of the Great Hall were occupied, and...glowed? She took another look, and with a shock, recognized the four founders glaring out of their frames, and that the bulk of those glares were directed at _Dumbledore_. She dared not turn to look at the expression on his face.

“Of _all the things_ , a _Head Teacher_ trying to overturn the decision of the Sorting Hat! I have watched over this hall for _hundreds_ of years, and never have I seen such a _shameful_ display of dishonor!” Helga snapped, her eyes fire and rage, and her hand grasping for the haft of a spear that was not painted into the portrait with her. This was not the pleasant woman that most people knew from the highly edited biographies. This was the Viking warrior-mage, the painted twin to the shade Haley had faced in Gringotts. In fact, all four of the portraits appeared as their younger selves. Godric took up where Helga left off.

“The Sorting is _not_ for you to interfere with, Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore! Not even your Namesake attempted something so utterly against the principles of the school!” The portrait of Salazar snorted and shook his head.

“Brian Wulfric may have been an ass, Brother, but he was _not_ an imbecile. I am not so certain of this one.” His voice was a smooth baritone, cultured and with a sort of dancing lilt that belied his Spanish roots. Rowena gave a sniff at that, and shook her head.

“Never before have I witnessed a display of such foolishness. We will have words with you, Head Teacher. We will meet you in your office.” and the Founders turned and walked from their frames. There was a beat of silence, the swish of a robe, the click of a door, and MInerva cleared her throat.

“We will continue the Sorting. Off you go, Haley.” she murmured the last for the girl’s ears only, and as Haley walked to the Hufflepuff table - head down in dejection and trembling in terror of what might await her after _that_ little display - Minerva called the next person up. Haley saw the first free chair and sank into it almost blindly, not looking at her new Housemates. After a few moments, she heard someone get up, walk over, and slide into the bench next to her.

“Wotcher, Haley, right? I’m Tonks, _just_ Tonks. Oi, I can’t talk to the top of your head, give us a peek, eh?” she felt a gentle finger just brush her chin, and she hesitantly raised her head. The rest of Hufflepuff was all looking at her, but with gentle smiles and welcoming expressions. She got the sense that the quiet was for her perceived benefit, not out of any lack of enthusiasm. “There she is! My, you’re a cute one! Gonna have to beat the lads with a stick in a few years...or maybe the lasses too, eh?” she turned a shocked look on her erstwhile seatmate, and saw her for the first time. Bright neon red hair, piercings in both ears and one eyebrow, old worn leather jacket over a grey jumper, and denims with no few holes in them. She _radiated_ cool, but had a kind and cheerful look about her. Haley did not know the word “punk”, except as a derisive name her Uncle used, but she immediately knew that Tonks was someone who did things her own way or not at all. Haley finally noticed Hermione on her other side, and Neville across from her giving a shy smile and wave. She gave one back, then looked back at Tonks.

***

“Uhm...hi. Yeah, I’m Haley...erm...sorry?” The little firstie made a complicated face that implied both that she was sorry for the commotion earlier and sorry for being such a nuisance. Tonks took one look at it and immediately clamped down on herself with a control few suspected she possessed. Oh if she ever found out who had turned this sweet little thing into someone who cowered at a bit of ruckus and _apologised for their existence_ , she was going to _hurt_ them.

But that wasn't what the girl needed right now, and any display of anger or upset would be taken completely the wrong way. Tonks looked up at the Staff table while Haley was distracted with her yearmates _looks like she alread has a couple friends - good_ , and shot a silent, wandless charm that made the salt shaker nearest Pomona tip over and the grains rearrange into a simple message. That was all she could do in the brief moment before Haley turned back to her and _stared_. She chuckled softly.

"Yeah, I'm a bit of a sight. Look, you walked over here like you expected the world to fall on your head. Whatever you came from - and I'm not askin' 'less you wanna tell me - you're a Badger now. We take care of our own, no matter what. You're safe here, no matter what, got it?" She grinned as the girl nodded with a dumbfounded expression, and patted her shoulder gently as she got up from the bench. "Gonna go back to me mates now, but we'll see each other back in the Den, yeah? Enjoy the feast." She winked and strolled back up the table. When she got back to her seat, there was a folded note under her goblet. _I know. Will advise after feast. Keep an eye. -P.S._

 _Well. That's sorted._ She turned back to watch the rest of the Sorting, secure in the knowledge that her Head of House had things well in hand.

***

Haley watched Tonks go and felt rather bewildered. They just... accepted her. She saw the truth of it in the expressions around her, in the reassuring wink and nod of a boy that looked around three years up from her, and the smiles of her yearmates. It was an utterly foreign feeling. She contemplated it so deeply that she completely lost track of time and only came back to herself when a gobsmacked looking Ron plopped down next to her.

“What now?” She asked quietly, casting her eyes around the hall to look for the latest bit of weirdness. She noted a knot of also bewildered looking redheads over at the Gryffindor table, and it clicked just as Ron said in a small voice

“I’m the first Weasely to not be in Gryffindor in three generations…” he sounded baffled, confused, and....scared? Oh, oh _no_ , that was _not on_ and she was going to absolutely _eviscerate_ Molly Effing Weasely when she got hold of her. She shot a glance at Hermione as she took a breath to speak, probably to say something about how it wouldn’t be that big a deal, and Haley reached over and squeezed her hand, giving a very slight shake of her head. Hermione gave a confused frown, but stayed quiet.

“Ron, the Hat puts you where you fit best...and I think in your case especially it’s right. You’re plenty brave already. You made friends with _two girls_ first thing on the train. And you were game to _wrestle a troll_ , though you were justifiably _nervous_ about it. Bravery isn’t never feeling afraid, it’s seeing what needs to be done and then _doing_ it, no matter how scared you are. I don’t think there’s anything you could get from Gryffindor, besides living in your older sibs’ shadows.” Haley said, blinking at the wisdom that seemed to pour out of her, barely aware of what she was saying until she said it. Then she silently cursed at herself and put her shields back up, shutting out those outside influences. She winced when she saw the speculative looks of those nearest her, and gave a helpless little shrug and a sheepish smile. Ron looked even more surprised, if that were possible, but then nodded with a smile.

“You’re right...the Hat said pretty much the same thing anyway. And a load of stuff about how I needed a” he paused, and then gave a recital “supportive and nurturing environment to discover who I am as an individual and grow into my own intellect and talents.” then he shrugged “Figure that means you’re right, I need to get away from my family a bit, as much as I love them.” At that moment, Minerva called the last name, the last child was sorted, and she put the stool and hat aside as she stepped up to the Lectern.

“A few brief announcements. Mr. Filch reminds students that they are not to enter the Forbidden Forest unless escorted by a teacher, and to please read the list of banned items posted on his office door. Any student found with an item on the list will lose points, and receive detention. Please also note that the third floor east corridor is off limits to all students. An unknown bit of magic has taken up residence, and I do not think I need to warn any of you the dangers of unknown magic. All entrances to the corridor have been demarcated with an Age Line to keep students out, and anyone spotted with signs of attempting to cross will be met with harsh discipline. That is all, Prefects, you will find the usual packet of other announcements in your Common Rooms after the feast. See that they are posted, and give the usual welcoming addresses to your first years. That is all.” she sat, and food began appearing on the platters in front of the students. Haley, well used to elf magic, started grabbing her favorites, taking a few nibbles of each to cushion the phials of potion that appeared next to her plate. At the questioning looks from Hermione, Ron and Neville she shrugged and answered casually, without thinking.

“I didn’t get enough food growing up, these help.” is all she says, but she might as well have dropped a bomb for the way the conversation around her stilled and people stared. She pretended not to notice as she ate in quick, neat bites. Once her plate was empty, she went back for more, always smaller portions to give her body time to register when it was really _full_ , instead of when she simply couldn’t cram in another bite. The elves, and later her teachers and Remus had taught and enforced this behavior, after Saoirsí caught her shovelling food into her mouth like she was never going to see it again. Soon enough the others turned back to their meals, but she was aware of the little glances she got and the whispers going around the table.

 _Bugger. So much for being normal._ She thought to herself as she went for plate number three. As she looked around the hall and waited for the steak-and-kidney pie to cool a bit, she noted Remus get up from the staff table and stride over to Gryffindor. He bent over the twins and spoke to them a moment, they shook their heads, then he said just two words and they stared at him in horror. After a hurried and intense conversation, Fred threw up his hands and George handed something to the professor. He patted the boy on the shoulder, said something that caused them both to eye him speculatively, then he went back to the staff table and picked up the conversation he was having as if nothing had happened. Haley thought to herself _I should check if he knows about Molly. I bet he just threatened them with her to get whatever that was._ She made a note to ask him later about it, and went back to her final course.

Of course, desert chose the moment she finished to appear, and she found she could probably eat a _little_ more. There was berry pie. Portion control is a hard thing to keep in mind when you are 11 and faced with berry pie. She _did_ limit herself to only once slice, and then took to one of her favorite hobbies: people-watching. She never lingered too long on any one person, but made sure to idly scan areas to keep from staring. You could learn a lot about people, watching them like this, and what she saw bore out the earlier feeling she got. At the Hufflepuff table, things were very close, and the upper years swapped seats with utter disregard for age and experience. It was like an enormous family. 

Gryiffindor had some of that going on, but mostly the years kept to themselves. Ravenclaw appeared to be holding an impromptu seminar/workshop/discussion forum, and Haley noted that their tablecloth was covered by brown butcher’s paper, as they were wont to sketch out or write down an idea on the surface regardless of its suitability for such. Slytherin...looked like what Haley imagined a State Function in a medieval court would look like. Punctilious manners and pointed words and daggers-under-velvet, though she did notice that it was a little _too_ rehearsed.

Once people had finished their desert, no few of the first years and a larger part of the upper years than was entirely healthy were groaning from overindulging. Ron was one of them, though none of the Weasleys she had met had that pinched, starved look about them. _Maybe he just never sees variety like this at home?_ She shook her head and put it out of her mind as a pair of fifth years, a boy and a girl wearing enamel badges with the house banner and a golden _P_ superimposed over it called for the attention of all the first years.

"Right, you lot. I'm Collins. Usually there's a bit of a free period after supper, but tonight we need to get you all into the Den. It's a tradition, one which we Prefects enjoy because it means we don't go too hoarse to cast spells in the first week of term. Only gotta say everything once. So, step sharp, follow me an' Penzie, and _mind_ when we say something, oi? We're not out to kill your fun, we just don't want you blowing up anything or any _one_ you don't mean to. Savvy? Great. Off we go."

Haley could only catch glimpses of a curly mop of brown hair, next to a sunny blond waterfall. Collins, the curly mop on top of a boy, had the broad vowels of the north. Penzie had stayed quiet, but Haley managed to catch a glimpse of her through the crowd, and her expression matched her hair. Haley was mildly disappointed that Tonks had vanished with the rest of the older students, but she dutifully fell into line and followed the older students. Hermione saw her slightly baffled look and whispered a brief explanation of the Prefect system.

There was an abrupt commotion from the front, and Haley stood transfixed as the students all dived behind anything available with shrieks and cries of doom. She was the only one left in the open, looking around wildly. Then she saw it, Peeves bearing straight for her, a glass phial full of a foul-looking greenish brown liquid in each hand. She froze, a dozen instincts whirling through her mind, when that third year boy stepped in front of her, his school robe seeming to fly like a cape in some period drama.

“Protego!” He barked, and a slight distortion in the air was all the visual indication of the spell. From the verbal component, she guessed that it was some sort of protection charm, which was borne out a moment later when the phials zoomed into it, then bounced away, shattering against the walls. Peeves looked frustrated, and pulled two more from pockets. Before Peeves could wind up to chuck them again, Collins was somehow at her side, grinning like a mad fool.

“Haley, right? Nice to meet you, Haley. _Run for your life!”_ The tone was a joke, but the words broke Haley’s paralysis and she grabbed his extended hand, pelting down the hall as the sounds of shattering glass followed her. After a couple dozen feet she began laughing, Collins joining her. The rest of the firsties soon gathered around them, stampeding down the halls, led somehow by Collins. Every once in a while another _protego_ would ring out from either the third year boy in the center of the herd, or Penzie, bringing up the rear.

Haley was almost shocked to find that this was _fun_ . Nobody was in any real danger, Haley was _fairly_ certain that Hogwarts wouldn’t allow one of her ghosts to actually _hurt_ any of the students, and running in a group like this was _exhilarating_ . Everything since she’d left the Dursleys’ had been an adventure, but this was the first one she _shared_ with people her own age. _With my friends…_ she shocked herself by admitting, catching glimpses of Ron, Hermione and Neville in the herd of students. Feeling emboldened, she flicked the wrist of her wand arm, and felt her wand drop into her hand. It had taken her almost the entire time from when she bought it to the start of term to get the trick of flicking and positioning just _so_ , to have it drop into her hand ready to cast. It was a problem unique to her grip, thus it had been a matter of lots of frustrating practice. Now that she’d mastered it, however, she felt confidence swell in her. She shot a quick stinging hex over her shoulder as Peeves zoomed by, and was rewarded with a sort of screeching yelp as she heard the poltergeist tumble and careen off a couple walls. Collins flashed her a breathless grin, and finally they all slowed as it seemed Peeves decided to go bother someone less likely to bother him back.

“That was...brilliant!” Collins gasped as he put his hands on his knees and breathed hard. Haley was slowly breathing and stretching out a stitch in her side, but wore a grin of triumph. Hermione, Ron and Neville pushed their way through the knot of students to all hug Haley and make sure she was okay. She nodded, and looked around the corridor.

“Erm, Collins? We’re nowhere near the Hufflepuff dorms…” they were on a third floor corridor, one that looked oddly deserted. They hadn’t paid any attention to _where_ they had been running. Haley noted a broad white line just ahead of them, and just as an unknown voice behind them whispered “uh-oh…”, the most unholy screeching sound, like a cat but distorted and amplified, echoed through the corridor.

Professors seemed to appear as if from nowhere, Minerva chiefest among them, though Pomona and Remus were there as well. They surrounded the student group, and with a sharp “Move!” from Minerva, herded them back down the corridor, not stopping until they were a level down and two halls over.

“Eric Collins and Claire Penzival you will explain this _gross_ mismanagement of your duty _at once!_ Leading _First Years_ on a mad dash through the halls and ending up _there_ of all places!” McGonagall fumed, then Pomona stepped forward, face just as thunderous.

“I am incredibly disappointed in you two. This is completely out of character. I hope you realize that you have put your Prefect’s status - at the very least - at risk with this. Not to mention _the lives if your younger Denmates_.” Did Haley imagine the brief flicker of Sprout’s eyes towards her specifically? It didn’t matter, there was a massive misunderstanding here, and as she was responsible…

“Professors…” She spoke up hesitantly “It’s...It’s my fault. Peeves was in the corridor we were going down and he had these potions in his hand and he was throwing them at students. I froze. He” she pointed to the as yet unnamed third year “stepped in front of me and cast a protection charm. Then Collins told me to run, and soon we were all running with Peeves chasing us, throwing more of those really foul-smelling things around. We weren’t really watching where we were going, just trying to get away. I hit him with a stinging hex and he backed off, and we looked around and saw where we were. Then the screaming went off and that’s where you found us.” Haley felt miserable. Her fault, all her fault. She was useless, she was just some dumb broken freak who thought she could be _normal_ here, how could she ever think a thing like that. Now she’d gotten a bunch of people in trouble and they would-

“Well. If there were any doubt as to her house…” she heard Remus murmur, and then looked up to see him smile at her gently. Minerva looked shocked, and Pomona crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling, as if debating shouting for Peeves. Just then, Tonks and another older boy came charging around the corridor, wands out, only to skid to a halt with surprised expressions on their faces.

“Uhm...hi, Professors. When the firsties were late we went looking, and Clearwater told us she’d seen Peeves going for them...we were coming to rescue the poor dears, but…” Tonks waved around “Seems you beat us to it.” she finally registered the miserable expressions on Collins, Penzie and Haley’s faces, and looked puzzled, offering a hesitant “Professor Sprout?” Pomona took a deep breath and shook her head, her usual cheery smile reappearing.

“Nothing to worry about, dear. A misunderstanding caused by an accident. Now, I think it’s best we get these children to their Common Room. Remus, Minerva, thank you. I’ll take them all myself, I was intending to head down anyway for the usual start-of-term introductions.” Tonks and the boy stowed their wands, as did Haley, the Prefects and the Third Year Boy, who finally caught Pomona’s eye.

“Cedric.” she said, causing the boy to turn. “Ten points for a most excellent use of the shield charm. Protecting your denmates is always cause for reward.” she winked at him, and then led the troop down a few stairs and shortcuts, finally getting to the stack of barrels. She showed them which barrel to knock on, the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff, and led them down the sloping hall to the door to the Common Room. Haley and the rest of the first years gazed around in wonder at the warm, comfortable space they found themselves in. _I’m….home._ Haley thought to herself, following Pomona’s instructions to settle into some of the squashy furniture - or cushions on the floor. Haley chose one of the latter, a big one that could hold a few others, and was shortly joined by her friends, listening raptly as Pomona got on with the house-specific announcements and other start-of-term minutiae. Despite the brief uproar in the hall, this was turning into one of the better nights of Haley’s life so far.

***

The same could not be said for Albus Dumbledore. He sat up in his office, silently fuming. The lecture from the _portraits_ of the founders were bad enough, and had lasted until the end of the feast. Then _his own staff_ had descended on him. Including _Severus_ , which was maddening. He should have that greasy git firmly under his thumb. And _how_ was he completely unaffected by the potions and charms? Bloody Occlumens. And Minerva! An oversight, he’d thought she was loyal to him, that there was no need of the usual...precautions, but no. She’d turned on him to, and brought _Remus and Pomona_ with her. His plans were unravelling in front of him, and he hadn’t the slightest clue what to do about it. He looked up at Fawkes’ perch, currently empty, though the Phoenix was well recovered from his rather spectacular self-immolation. And if Albus ever found out _who_ had caused that massive surge of magic right in the middle of one of his more complicated workings, he’d wring their throat.

And then there was his Savior. His Trump Card. His Ace in the Hole, prancing about like a ruddy _girl_ . The Boy-Who-Lived was nothing of the kind, and all Albus’ carefully laid scenarios and stepping stones were falling apart. He had _friends_ ! Not just one or two who were mostly unreliable! No! If the reports from the halls were correct, her entire bloody _house_ was charmed by her and already fiercely protective of her. Ruddy badgers. If he could have, he’d have destroyed the House system entirely before Harry got to Hogwarts. But it was too entrenched in the Magic of the School. Not even as Headmaster could he undo _those_ enchantments. Not even this _Keeper_ nonsense could do so. He wasn’t entirely certain who this mysterious person was, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his Sacrificial Pawn had turned around and become a Rogue Queen on him.

How, _how_ to bring the boy back to heel? And he _was_ still a boy, dammit! Core Shifts and Affirmation Potions were a bunch of rot. New-age fancy, just like those damned _muggles_ who insisted that they could be Witches _too_ , and came up with such utter nonsense to explain why their so-called “Spells” never worked. All vibrations and crystals and poppycock. Nobody could _feel_ magic! You learned the right words, made the right wand motions, focused on the outcome and if you had the gift, you got magic. It was simple, straightforward, logical. It followed _rules_ , though not the narrow ones the Ministry had imposed. Gellert had been right about that at least, the rules of magic were far more elemental, and obeyed no laws of men.

He sat in his darkening study, and thought, and fumed, and plotted.

He _would_ get Harry back. It was the only way. It was for the Greater Good. 

Everything for the Greater Good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Albus, you UTTER BASTARD.
> 
> Sumarry for those who skipped: The portraits read Dumbles the Riot Act, then the Teachers did. He got pissy that his precious plans were falling apart, refused to recognize Haley's gender, and was a general twat.


	8. In the Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Haley meets her house, things are said in the dorms, and we learn that Dumbles isn't as good as he thinks he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! I’m still alive! I’m rather near one of the larger wildfires in the western US right now, but we haven’t been evacuated. I know my update schedule is erratic at the best of times, but if I suddenly vanish for a while, don’t worry about the story being abandoned. I’ve fallen in love with Haley and I will see her story complete. Now, on to the fluff and satisfaction.

Haley and Hermione cuddled up against each other. Haley had been rather surprised when the somewhat reserved girl plopped down on the cushion she had chosen, then put an arm behind Haley and pressed against her side. She found the softness and warmth rather pleasant, and after a _firm_ reminder to herself that she was _safe_ and not all touching was bad, she found it felt similar to when she’d hugged Minerva, but also different ways she didn’t have the words to define. She glanced around surreptitiously, and noticed even the upper years had pairs, trios, quartets, or in one notable instance an entire _pile_ of people all laying on, over, across and next to each other. Any child not raised in an abusive cesspit would immediately recognize it as similar to a massive slumber party. Haley, having lacked that experience, was merely content that they weren’t standing out. Ron and Neville weren’t plastered to each other the way Hermione was with her, but they were leaning on each other companionably. Haley glanced over at her new friend, and felt her mouth tighten slightly.

 _Flitwick told me about something called Skin Hunger. How people_ need _to be touched, and are likely to latch on if they’ve been deprived. This certainly fits that. Probably if I weren’t so broken I’d feel the same, but touch to me has always meant pain._ She frowned outright at that, then shifted a little on the cushion to get more comfortable and turned her attention back to Sprout. Thinking about things like that too much made her sad, and she was determined to be happy here.

“...well, that’s enough from me. The rest of you, off to bed. Collins, Penzie, take the young ones and tell them all the House Traditions and all that, will you? I’ve got to check on preparations for lessons tomorrow. Good night, my Cubs.” Sprout waved merrily and took herself off, humming as she tucked her wand behind her ear. The older years, except the two 5th year Prefects, took themselves off to Bed. Cedric waved at Haley with a grin, and she gave a shy wave back. _He seems really nice…_ she thought to herself, then turned her attention to Collins and Penzie. Penzie was the one standing, looking at them all with her quiet, neutral expression.

“All right, little ones, listen close, scooch in. This is no less important than what Sprout had to say. First and foremost, you’re ‘Puffs now. Whatever differences you may have with each other, and we know you will, they stay in this common room. Out there? We stick together and we help each other. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, they all underestimate us. They think we’re the leftovers, not right for any other house. Or that we’re broken, that we got Sorted here because we “need help”. That last bit is _almost_ true. A lot of us come from backgrounds where our blood relatives aren’t the best. But listen to me and _hear what I am saying_ ” her neutral expression had transformed as she was speaking. Now it was intense. Her expression had barely changed, her volume was the same, but there was such _passion_ behind the words that each one felt like it stamped itself on Haley’s ears and brain. “ _You. are. not. broken.”_ she punctuated each word with a sharp little flick of her wrist, pointing at four different points in the room, somehow making it seem as if she pointed at each student in turn with those economical motions. 

Haley felt a tiny stirring of magic in the air, and briefly frowned. It didn’t feel like spellcasting, and in any case Penzie’s wand was clearly visible stuck in the bun on the back of her head. _An innate gift? Possibly...and since it’s not actual spellwork, it’s probably not anything being taught. I’ll have to ask Remus..._ she let her mind flick over that thought then pulled herself back to the present moment, just as drawn in by the sincerity in Penzie’s tone. The older girl made eye contact with each of them and let the silence stretch to drive the point home. After a moment or two, Collins stood and set a hand on Penzie’s shoulder. She seemed to come back to herself with a little shake and a shy smile. She laid her hand over Collins’ for a moment, then yielded the floor to him.

“What Penzie’s tryin’ to say, is that each of you is here because you’re meant to be. Think of the Sorting Rhyme, what was Helga’s verse? _I’ll take the lot, and teach them all the same._ That doesn’t mean the leftovers, that means you _all_ exhibit little bits of _every_ house. Brave and Loyal, Clever and Witty, Cunning and Ambitious. But what sets Puffs apart? What makes us _special_? Is our Loyalty. We stand with each other, united. We lift up the weakest and celebrate when we fall, because when you get it wrong, then you learn. When you lift up the weakest, everyone else becomes that much stronger. Because we’re cunning, we let Gryffindor and Ravenclaw be noisy and outrageous and act like they own their “Defining traits”. Let the crazy Lions go charging headfirst into a fight. Let the stuffy Eagles sit up in their Tower and read their lives away. We’ll be right there to pick up the Lion’s and put ‘em back together so they can keep fighting. We’ll drag the Eagles out into the sunshine and chuck snowballs at ‘em until they remember what fresh air feels like. And the Snakes? Those cunning, conniving, ambitious Slytherins? Well. Let them wonder what game we’re playing, they’ll drive themselves mad trying to figure out our “angle”, when all the while we’re hiding nothing.” he gave a rouge’s grin that could put the Weasley twins to shame, and traded off with Penzie again. Haley caught on to the tactic, and glanced down at Hermione. The dark haired girl was completely entranced, and Haley smiled a little before she turned her attention back to Penzie.

“Exactly. We’re Badgers. We keep mostly to ourselves, until it’s time to come snarling out of our Den and remind everyone why you don’t mess with a badger. And again, that’s not to say we all get along perfectly all the time. There will be disagreements, there will be arguments, there may even be rows - though we hope you’ll come to one of us first and try to sort it out without that - but we have to present a united face to the rest of the school. And we never, ever, sabotage each other.” Penzie glanced at the clock, then back to the yawning first years. “All right, we don’t split our dorms by gender here, because that’s silly, and because everyone’s got their own room. It’s not much, bed, desk, bookshelf and space for your trunk, but it’s got a door and a lock, though we Prefects are authorized to _alohamora_ any door we think we need to get through in an emergency. Go pick out a door, but make sure it’s where you want it to be. That’s your room for the next seven years. You can trade around up to a week from tonight, if you find something really unbearable, but after that the wards settle in, so try to keep it to a minimum.” she clapped once sharply, and everyone snapped back to themselves then clambered up to go down one of the three halls off the common room. Haley stood up and hauled Hermione to her feet, then asked quietly

“Want to find rooms next to each other?” she was rewarded by a beaming smile and a nod. They shot down a hallway, still holding hands and giggling like, well, a couple of school girls. They did indeed find two adjoining rooms, in the middle of a block of four. Ron and Neville had followed them, glanced at each other behind the girls’ backs, and gave a silent nod. Ron took the room on the end next to Haley, Neville next to Hermione. They all looked at each other for a moment, then Haley placed her hand on the wood of the door and said her name aloud. The door flashed golden, and a copper nameplate appeared on it: _H. Potter_ and next to it, a black iron _1_ . The other three followed suit, and soon had plates and _1_ s of their own.

“Is that for our year d’ya think?” Ron asked, looking puzzled, just as Tonks popped her head out of a door across the hall.

“Bang in one, Weasley! Cor, not even Charlie twigged to that right away.” a muffled noise of protest came form inside her room, and she stepped into the hallway laughing “Well you didn’t, ye daft bungie. Come out here and say hi to my new hallmates!” She reached back in and pulled someone else out, an older boy about her age, bearing the same distinctive ginger hair and pale skin as Ron.

“Heya, firsties, I’m- _Ron?!”_ Charlie Weasley gaped at his youngest brother, but recovered admirably. “I missed the Sorting, had to talk to the team! You’re a Puff? Brilliant!” he swept forward and hugged Ron hard, who looked mildly uncomfortable, but didn’t pull away. Charlie released him quickly, then stood to address the rest. “Sorry, I’m Charlie Weasley, Ron’s older brother, 7th year Gryffindor. Dora and I have been friends since second year when she pulled my arse out of the Black Lake. Long story.” he forestalled at their bewildered expressions. “You’ll be seeing a bit of me down here, never took to all that house rivalry nonsense. But I’ve gotta dash if I’m going to be back in the Tower before curfew. And Ron?” he smiled at the younger Weasley, who looked miserable “Don’t worry about Mum. I’ll take care of it. Oh, I am so _proud_ of you, little brother!” he grinned, patted Ron on the head again, then swept down the corridor. He didn’t hurry, but his long stride had him down the hall and whipping through the door in a trice. Tonks chuckled, and looked down at her new hallmates.

“Right, you lot. Into bed now, breakfast is early tomorrow. I’ll set off a caterwauling charm at 9 if you’re not up.” she waggled her eyebrows, which had turned to bright fuchsia at some point, and slipped into her room, shutting the door. Haley looked around at her friends, and then turned to hug Ron, Hermione joining a moment later.

“Told ya it’d work out.” Haley murmured, before turning and darting into her room, seeing her trunk at the foot of her bed already. She grinned and shucked her school robes and uniform, hanging them neatly on the back of her door when she noticed the hook on the back. She slipped into her nightgown, then looked around and surveyed the rest of her tiny domain. Sure enough, the scrap of floor she was standing on, a desk with a chair, a small bookshelf, and that was it. She sat on her bed and reached out to touch the stone wall, and felt Hogwarts swell around her, bathing her in warmth. She was _home_. She stood up, shot the bolt on her door, slid into bed and blew out the lantern with a flick of her wand, settling in and letting her mind just drift and take in the feel of the magic around her as her House settled in for the night.

***

Charlie Weasley was not having such a restful night. As soon as the kids had went to bed, he felt the mirror in his pocket warm and vibrate. He ducked into a deserted passage and pulled it out, smiling as Tonks appeared in the glass.

“Hang on, Dora, let me get Bill in. He needs to hear this too.” she nodded and he tapped the mirror with his finger in a distinct pattern. A few moments later, Bill’s face appeared in half the mirror, crowding Tonks into the other half.

“Bro? Tonks? It’s gotta be near curfew, what’s up?” Bill asked, a frown creasing his brow. “God, did the twins-?” he cut off as Charlie shook his head.

“No, Biliam, not the Terrors. Ron started today, and I owe you an apology. I wasn’t keeping as close an eye as I should have on Mum. He was _terrified_ , big bro, utterly _miserable_ because he’s been Sorted into Hufflepuff instead of Gryffindor. Never mind that Grand-Uncle Newt was a puff. And the twins...she’s worse than ever with them. I-I had to walk away, Bro. Walked straight away from her on the Platform after she was _tearing_ into George for losing control of a cart with a stuck wheel. I was about to hex her. I feel so-”

“Whoooooa there, Charlie. Steady on.” Bill’s voice was soft and soothing, and Dora’s joined it. “I don’t blame you for any of it. There’s precious little you can do while you’re still in school, I know. I’ll talk to Dad again, let him know what’s been happening. Tonks? Did you find out anything more about those packages?” Tonks nodded again from her half of the mirror.

“Mad-Eye’s had his eye on me since last year. He contacted me over the summer, asking me if I was looking for an Apprenticeship. I accepted, then told him about those packages your Mum’s been getting in secret. He managed to do a check of Arthur, and it’s just like we thought. He’s under a half-dozen enchantments and a couple potions.” Charlie took up the thread.

“I’ve got the cleansers. Just picked ‘em up from Dora, which is when I ran into Ron and some of his friends, including a young Miss Potter. Yes, she’s  _ that _ Potter. Gender affirmation and all, my contacts at Gringotts confirmed it.” Bill’s eyes lit and Charlie nodded “Yup. Just before term. I’m apprenticed to old Gordo himself, he’s fast-tracking me into the Dragon Handlers. Mum hates it, says she wishes I’d get a “proper Ministry position”, but there’s not a damn thing she can do now that I’m Of Age. My confirmation was when they found  _ my _ load of spells and potions. I’m going to McGonagall tomorrow. And Snape, I’ve got about six years of crap to apologise for. It’s a loss with the Slytherins in my year, but we’re working on the younger years. Oh, you’ll  _ love _ this, bro. Old Dumbles got his nose tweaked at the Feast tonight, by the Founder Portaits no less!” Charlie launched into the tale, Tonks filling in where appropriate, and Bill couldn’t keep himself from laughing. Then they got to planning.

Bill had found the load of enchantments, potions and a couple outright  _ hexes _ he was under when he confirmed his Heir status on his 17th birthday. Thank Merlin for Griphook, and thank Flitwick for teaching him how to deal with Goblins  _ properly _ . His disenchantment with Dumbledore, Hogwarts, and Magical Britain dated from that day, two years ago. It was why he worked on detachment in Egypt as a Curse Breaker. Since then he’d been working behind the scenes, as much as he could, to undo whatever damage he could that the conniving Headmaster had done. He had no idea what the  _ hell _ Dumbledor was playing at, but anyone who went to these kinds of lengths to manipulate and control people was not someone who should wield the kind of power Dumbledor did. 

Bill had _studied_ Grindlewald’s rise - and fall - and he knew what few remembered. Dumbledor and he had been at least friends, and Bill suspected a great deal more. Their letters to each other certainly sounded like lovers. Bill had no qualms about homosexuality, but to be in love with such a repulsive _person_ as Grindlewald? And to spout that _Great Good_ load of utter _dragon dung?_ Nope. And what was more, he’d been in contact with Great Uncle Newt via post to America. If _Newton Bloody Scamader_ didn’t trust Dumbledor? If _Percival Effing Graves_ wanted nothing to do with him? These were all signs that things were not as they seemed, and Dumbledor was not the benevolent savior he touted himself to be. But there was damn-all he could do by himself. He’d destroy himself - and possibly the rest of his family - if he tried. So he worked right now to gain allies and the trust of people who could reasonably stand up to the Headmaster.

And if Haley Potter had ended up changing her gender? Was in Hufflepuff house, where she’d get support and real friends? That was all the better. He’d talked to his dad about James and Lily Potter, about why Haley had vanished, instead of coming to live with them, the way his parents had wanted if Sirius Black wasn’t available. He had his suspicions about what Dumbledor was trying to do, and be damned if he was going to sit back and watch it happen.

“Tonks?” he interrupted at one point, looking unwontedly solemn.

“What’s up, Bill? You’ve been quiet for awhile now.” she replied as her head tilted in curiosity and concern.

“Keep an eye on Haley. I mean really. It’d be best if you could mentor her. And the other three. I think now that Dumbledor has been thwarted he’ll try to make their lives difficult. And get them tested as soon as possible. Charlie, I know they’re not in your House, but do what you can alright? And tell the Terrors what’s on. They’re more useful than you give them credit for.” he glanced out a window “Go get some sleep. My day is starting soon. I’ll talk to you both tonight.” he disconnected the mirror-call and rolled out of his cot. He’d done all he could, now it was time to focus on his job. _To think, I’d ever get in a situation where I’d be dealing with something_ more _dangerous than ornery Dragons. Parselmouth, parselmouth, my_ kingdom _for a parselmouth!_ He misquoted to himself as he got ready for the day, tying his long hair back and making sure his earring-charm was secure.

***

Dumbledor frowned at his wand, shaking it vigorously as if it were a pen out of ink. He tried the spell again, a complicated twist-roll-flick-thrust, and once again a pathetic little _plip_ of magic came dropping from the intransigent bit of wood.

 _I AM your Master!_ He thought furiously at the Elder Wand, glaring at the lumps meant to be elderberries. Nothing happened. He growled and sent his Sight inward and found...his core - _blocked?!_ Impossible! That hadn;t been an umbrea- oh. Oh _damn_ that woman! It wasn’t an Unbreakable Vow, no, but she’d used her _wand arm_ , and he’d responded with the same. Too clever by half! All right. He’d play her game, for now. She’d snuck one of his pawns, but that was all. He had plenty of plays.

“Haley Potter is a lovely young woman.” he grumbled truculently, sounding exactly like a thwarted adolescent. He felt the block loosen, and sighed, continuing on. “Haley Potter is a lovely young woman who I will not keep from learning all she desires, so long as it does not harm herself or another.” he Saw the block dissolve, and his magic flowed again. Yes...yes, he had a lot of play still with this. And even Wizarding Vows could be circumvented. More experiments were needed. Albus began working, testing the limits of the Vow, going over it’s terms in his mind, seeking all the loopholes and ways to twist it to his advantage.

_Even if I can’t exert as much direct pressure on her...those little friends of hers. One of them is a Weasley. Yes. And that Muggleborn, Granger. Perfect. I can’t touch the Longbottom boy, Augusta has her own protections wound too tightly about him, but if I can distance him…_

The old wizard sat plotting, hunched over his many instruments and gizmos, muttering this or that to himself. He didn’t even notice the brief flash of scarlet flame as the perch in the corner of his office vanished, though he did note that his office seemed a bit cooler than usual and sent an absent spell to bolster the fire.

Across the castle, down in the Hufflepuff common room lovingly referred to as the Den by all it’s students, there was an identical flash, and soon Fawkes settled onto his new perch for a long-deserved rest, the warmth and caring in the subterranean room a blam after spending so long in the poisonous plotting and manipulation of the Headmaster’s office. Pomona Sprout stuck her head out of the door to her quarters when she was alerted to a new presence in her House, and smiled to see the dozing phoenix.

 _Well. That’ll certainly cause a stir in the morning. And that’s no bad thing, considering what Minerva told me._ She called an Elf and had a note left in Minerva’s rooms, with a copy going to Filius and Severus as well. She’d have to set some of the Seventh Years searching the Room of Requirement. They _needed_ to find the original Charter of the school, now more than ever. It was seldom that Helga’s portrait gave her orders, or spoke to her at all except to let her know when something needed her attention. She intended to see them carried out. Being educated in Ireland and of Welsh ancestry, she didn’t hold the seeming awe and esteem of their aged Headmaster that British wizards seemed to. Now that people were waking up and seeing what a conniving old coot he was, she was well pleased. With that happy thought, she extinguished her lights and took herself to bed. Tomorrow would be...eventful.

***

Even though her room was dark, being underground, Haley knew it was dawn when she woke. A quick _tempus_ charm confirmed it. She sighed and stretched with a yawn, rolling out of her bed and shucking her nightgown, throwing on a long fluffy robe that went down to her ankles and overlapped. She left her uniform where it was on her door, grabbed her toiletries bag, and slipped quietly out into the hall. She tapped her door and heard the bolt shoot home, and smiled. _Dead useful charms, those are. And I bet the Headmaster wanted me ignorant of them so I couldn’t do things like this. Well, too bad old man._ It occurred to her that a simple bolt probably couldn’t stop him, so she paused a moment and laid her hand on the door, for the first time deliberately reaching out to the magic of the Castle with her own. She felt it stir and envelop her in warmth, then a sort of alien curiosity. She took a deep breath and then cleared her mind like she was getting ready to occlude. Instead of locking everything out, she focused on opening up a small channel. 

This would be the first time she actually _asked_ the castle for something, and she wanted to make sure she didn’t mess it up. _I need help._ She thought, and when the consciousness stirred she quickly thought _I need to make sure nobody messes with this room. Or the things in it. Nobody who wants to do anything that would hurt me, or use things in here to hurt someone else._ She felt a long moment of stillness, then a sort of mental knock on her mental shields. She lowered them a trifle more, and felt Hogwarts slip through, probing deeper into her thoughts and looking for...something. Finally, the magic withdrew and then settled around her. A brief golden image flared on the door that looked like a stylized phoenix with its wings curled protectively. Haley probed at a new magic on the door, and felt something remarkably similar to the castle wards now surrounding her room.

Now satisfied that her things would not be disturbed, she patted the door with a smile, sent a silent feeling of thanks to the Castle before turning down the hall and slipping into the bathing chamber at the end. She found _showers_ , of all things, and grinned. It made sense in a communal space like this, more could be fit into the space, and it allowed many people to pass through at once. Owing to the early hour, Haley had the space to herself. There was no division between a “boys” or “girls” side, so she just went to the first stall and slid the curtain aside. It was a small cubicle, tiled on the sides with a shallow ledge on the bottom. The floor was more tile, but closely fitted without grouting, and textured to prevent slips. The showerhead depended from the ceiling, and one wall was covered in various knobs. Haley was momentarily baffled, but then shrugged and stepped out of her robe, leaving it on a hook outside the curtain, next to a rack of towels. She stepped into the cubicle, shut the curtain, and then proceeded to start turning knobs.

Various foams, sprays, bubbles and scents spewed forth, and Haley started to play with them, giggling and occasionally muffling a shriek as one knob or the other did something shocking. Finally after about 20 minutes, she found the temperature knobs, and tweaked the others so that the water came down in a gentle rain that should leave her smelling of incense, cedar and wild mint. She washed and then shut everything off, groping for the towel and proceeding to dry herself and the floor of the stall. She slipped back into her robe, put her used towel in a hamper and went back down the hall. Another quick charm showed her how long she had spent playing among the knobs, but she still had plenty of time before breakfast. She dressed with care, choosing a pair of thick stockings against the chill she could feel lingering in the halls. Even half buried as they were in the Den, well, Scottish castles in autumn were not renowned for their heat.

Clean and dressed, she gathered the books and supplies she thought she would need today, checked to make sure her wand was secure in its holster, shoved everything into her bag and wandered out into the common room. She had the space to herself still, and it was a good thing because she was the first to see the dozing phoenix in the corner.

“Fawkes?!” she squeaked in surprise, which was enough to doze the bird, who trilled and swooped over to her, perching on the back of a nearby chair and butted his head into her arm, insistent on scratches. Haley obliged, looking at him in wonder. “But...why are you here…?” she asked softly as she looked him over with concern. He trilled again, sounding sad this time, and projected an aura of disappointment. An image of the Headmaster flashed into Haley’s mind, and then an image of preening feathers.

“You’re...disappointed with Dumbledor? And...you decided to wash your feathers of him?” Haley asked, uncertain. She was rewarded with a happy trill and another soft headbutt. She continued to scratch the phoenix’s crest and smiled at him. “Well. I’m happy you’re here, though you’re probably going to cause another commotion. I think it best if I weren’t here when the others wake up, hm? Make it clear that I’m not involved in this.” she gave the avian a final pat, then shouldered her bag and slipped out the entrance, walking with confidence to the Great Hall, navigating the corridors as if she'd always lived among them. Apparently her many walk-and-ramble sessions with Remus were doing some good.

It was early yet for breakfast, but there were pitchers of drink set out for the early risers, some with ice floating in them and some steaming hot. Haley poured herself a goblet of steaming tea, dropped in two sugars and a small dollop of cream, then took out one of her pleasure-novels and settled in to read. She was soon absorbed by the text, her mind painting vivid images for itself so that Haley was barely conscious of the actual words on the page, let alone the world around her. The spell was broken only when Ron thumped down on her left as Hermione settled on her right.

"There you are! Missed a right muck in the common room!" Ron greeted cheerfully, then lowered his voice "Fawkes the Phoenix lives with us now! Or so Sprout said! His perch moved into our common room and everything! What d'you think happened?" Haley marked her place and turned to look at Ron with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you think to ask Fawkes that? I'm sure he could explain better than I could. But, for a hint, look at the Head Table." Haley offered casually and reached for her favorites as she downed her nutrition potions and chased them with the dregs of her tea. Then she tucked in for a few moments before turning to Hermione.

"Sleep well? What do you think of the showers? Wild, right?" She smiled at the brunette, who grinned back with a rapid series of nods.

"Definitely. I think I spent probably ten minutes seeing what each one did, then another twenty coming up with all the possible combinations. I just soaped up and sluiced this morning, but I'm going to have optimal combinations by tonight! Want to see them?" Hermione gushed, taking Haley aback by the casual way she referenced some fairly advanced concepts. Clearly she was blindingly intelligent. Haley smiled and nodded.

"Sure! It's really neat how you can do stuff like that, keeping track of all the different uses in your head. I bet you're going to be stellar at potions and herbology, memorizing what each ingredient does and how it reacts. I... kind of started doing that, but it's slow going for me. Maybe if I had to computer or something." Hakey shrugged and took a drink, watching as Hermione blushed.

"Oh it's nothing...I just read a lot, book smarts. I'm useless at people. It's like everyone was handed a rule book on how to act and make friends, and my copy got lost…" she laughed as she said it, but Haley could hear it was forced. She patted the other girl on the back, giving her an encouraging smile.

"Well you're in luck. I have books on magic society and etiquette and all that. We can study together. I'm not perfect at it, but it's dead useful." Haley offered, and looked at Ron as he twitched.

" _That's_ how you knew what to say to Malfoy on the train! I couldn't figure how you'd know, being muggle-raised…" he snapped his mouth shut as he flushed. "Sorry...that was rude. My mouth got ahead of my brain again." Haley rolled her eyes, but patted Ron's shoulder. He was trying, so she would give him the benefit of the doubt, for a while.

"It's all right. It'll take practice." She looked across the table as Neville seated himself across from her and smiled at him.

"Morning, Neville. Hermione and I were just talking about studying magical etiquette together between classes, so we don't accidentally offend some noble Heir or something by accident." Neville's eyes got wide, then he blinked a couple times.

"If it's Titwillow's guide, she missed some of the modern modes. Not to the point of being rude, but you'll sound like you've time travelled from the 1800s. I can help you, if you want. Gran made sure I learned all that, since I'm the Heir after Mum and Da-" he cut himself off, clearing his throat and shaking his head "sorry. Anyway, I'll be happy to help." He promptly stuffed his mouth with bacon, possibly to keep from any more slips. Haley smiled at him, and as Hermione opened her mouth to probably ask about Neville's parents, Haley nudged her shoulder and shook her head.

"That sounds great, Nev. We'll work it around our class schedules. Speaking of…" she looked round as Professor sprout came down the table, handing out schedules. Haley snagged hers and Neville's besides, handing it across to him. "Brilliant! We've got Brooms first thing!" she enthused. She'd done some supervised low-altitude low-speed flights on her Nimbus, and even that was exhilarating. She felt at home in the air. Even though she'd be on a school broom this time, she was excited to get back into the sky. She looked around at her friends. Ron looked relaxed - probably flew at home with family brooms. Neville looked like he might be ill, and Hermione was tapping her fingers on the heel of her palm as she muttered everything she'd read about broomflight. Haley bounced to her feet and gently pulled Hermione's arm.

"C'mon. Let's go, if we get there early we'll get pick of the lot." Hermione blinked up at her, taking in her excitement, then grinned and drained her goblet, snatching a last piece of bacon. Ron stood too and moved around the table, cajoling Neville out of his seat. "Race to the pitch! Boys vs girls, loser is a slug!" Haley called before twining her fingers with Hermione's, who yelped as Haley took off running and dragged her along. Soon she was keeping up, and they burst through the front doors of the castle into the fresh morning sunlight neck-and-neck, the boys only a few steps behind.

Brooms were nice, but flying on the feeling of running with her friends was the greatest rush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had plans to advance the plot this chapter, but the Puffs had other plans. Your teeth rotten yet?


	9. Taking Flight and Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haley gets her first real taste of true flying, Malfoy continues to be a jerk, and Remus gets a rather nasty shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I completely forgot that Haley wears glasses? Oops? So...uh...her sight’s getting fixed this chapter, because A Wizard Said So. (Well, a Matron really, but...you’ll see.)
> 
> Also, the GDoc for this fic is now officially over 100 pages. Can I get a "Wahoo!"?

The boys beat Haley and Hermione to the pitch by a gnat’s split leg hair, but Ron lost no time in crowing about their victory, capering about with Neville, who was laughing and trying to “escape”. Haley and Hermione collapsed against each other with giggles watching the scene, which ended only when Madam Hooch strode across the grass. She was a tall witch, with short iron grey hair that was styled to look like it was constantly being blown to the left. Despite the color of her hair, she stood erect and radiated a sense of authority and power. Haley felt herself staring to withdraw, until the woman smiled.

“Most students are eager to fly, but this is the first race to the pitch I’ve seen since the Marauders. Hopefully this isn’t a sign that you’re following in their footsteps?” her voice was cheerful, full of good humor, and Haley relaxed a trifle. She saw none of the signs that warned of danger, the pinched expression or tense posture.

“No, Ma’am.” she responded, doing her best to look solemn and Responsible. Apparently, she succeeded in looking adorable instead, because Madam Hooch just chuckled and shook her head.

“Well then, I am Madam Hooch, the flying instructor. Since you’re the first, and since we’ve got quite a bit of time before class starts, let me introduce you to my brooms, and we’ll see if we can’t find one that fits you best, hm? The rest will have to make do with what’s left, but that’s what they get for lingering over breakfast! Hah!” she then walked them down the double line, giving a brief introduction of each broom. Most of them were the Cleansweep series, those being by far the most common and easiest to obtain and maintain. She sized up the children then, starting with Neville.

“Ahhhh, another Longbottom. I had the pleasure of teaching your parents, wonderful fliers both. Though I daresay Augusta compares you to them quite enough, since that’s Frank’s wand on your hip. Well..let’s see what we can do with you.” Haley watched Neville’s lips tighten at the mention of his parents, he actually  _ winced _ at the name “Frank”, and nearly downright cowered at the mention of his grandmother.

_ Wait, he’s using his father’s wand? _ She thought to herself, frowning.  _ But the Wandlore book I read said that’s a bad idea, especially if the wand hasn’t been properly introduced to the Mage in question. _ She stewed over that as she watched Madam Hooch hand Neville different brooms, shaking her head rapidly after each one, until they came to an old Cleansweep Seven. It settled into Neville’s hand as if made for him, and Madam Hooch nodded.

“Yep. That’s for you. Take it to the rightmost position there in front and set it down. There’s a good chap.” she turned next to Hermione, waving her forward. “Come along, Miss…?”

“Granger, Madam.” Hermione answered, taking a breath and then striding forward as if she were going into battle. Haley smiled a little at that, then more as Madam Hooch shook her head and took Hermione through a quick breathing exercise to get her to relax the tension from her body. Once again the matching of the brooms took place. When Ron was called, he strolled casually forward, looked over the lot, and grabbed another Cleansweep that also settled into his hand. When Madam Hooch looked askance at him, he blushed and gave an uncomfortable little shrug.

“I play Quidditch at home with my brothers, all our brooms are used.” he said, almost defensively. Madam Hooch simply nodded and patted his shoulder.

“A useful skill, to be able to pick the best of what’s available and make it work for you. Well done, Mr. Weasley.” and finally she turned to Haley, her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head.

“Hmmmm...if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were an Evans. You’re nearly the image of Lily, but-” she cut herself off at Haley’s blush, then frowned when Haley took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

“My mother’s name was Lily, Ma’am. I’m Haley Potter.” Madam Hooch gave her a penetrating look, but didn’t exclaim or coo or any of the other things Haley had feared. She simply nodded once again and motioned her over.

“Well, Miss Potter, I taught both your parents. But like with Messers Longbottom and Weasley, I will expect you to fly or fall on your own merit. Now, let’s get you a broom.” she led Haley over to the remaining brooms, and Haley let her shields relax just a tiny bit, extending a small tendril of her magic to each one. She felt a small spark between herself and one of the oldest brooms of the lot, and immediately went straight to it. It didn’t hum with restrained power like her Nimbus, it felt more like a rushing river. The handle was smooth as silk under her hand, and it almost leapt to her. “Oh-ho.” Madam Hooch said, warmth in her voice “Not many would pick that one, it’s a Falling Star, the successor to the Silver Arrow. It was a racing broom in it’s day, though any of the newer Cleansweeps could outpace it eventually, and the Nimbus line would make it look like it were merely hovering. Still, a very particular broom.” She turned to look over her shoulder, as the other students arrived. 

Haley was mildly disappointed to see that Draco Malfoy was there with his House. The rest of the Slytherins she had no opinion of yet, but Malfoy was singularly unpleasant in her experience. Already he was loudly criticizing the selection of brooms. Hermione looked like she was about to say something, but Haley put a hand on her arm and shook her head, leaning in to murmur softly.

“He’s not worth it. Speaking up will only make him target you. Look at Madam Hooch, she’s not bothered.” Haley nodded to where the flying instructor was looking coldly at Malfoy, her arms crossed. She clapped once, sharply, and called the class to order.

“Quickly now, children, pick a broom and stand next to it with your wand arm over it, and then call it to your hand. You must command it “up”, and it must be a  _ command _ . Watch.” she strode to the one broom placed alone and facing the rest, holding her hand out ot it. “Up!” she barked, and the shaft leapt to her hand. Haley glanced around and saw various students trying it with little success. Ron caught her eye and gave a grin, then held out his hand.

“Up!” he snapped, and there was the sound of the shaft smacking into his palm. He grinned and ran his hands over the wood, his eyes shining. Another barked word and smack of wood into hand, and Haley turned to see Neville looking rather shocked that it worked. She turned back to Hermione, gave a grin and a nod, and in unison they both commanded “UP!”.

As soon as the broom smacked into Haley’s hand, she was gripped with a wild excitement. Aside from the little household charms she’d been using, this was her first piece of major, deliberate magic. Her core sang, and immediately she wanted more.

“Good, you four! The rest, keep it up!” Haley beamed under the praise, not looking about to see her friends do the same. Finally, everyone had their brooms in hand. “Now, one by one you’ll mount your brooms and kick off  _ hard _ from the ground. Mr. Weasley; first in hand, is first in flight. Up you get!” Ron flushed at being called out, but mounted gamely, taking a deep breath and then launching into the air, hovering a moment. “Excellent! Now, to bring it back down, push down with your arms but  _ don’t _ lean forward. That’s it.” Ron did as instructed and his broom sank slowly until he landed with a little  _ thud _ .

Neville was next, and the nerves Haley had seen earlier finally got to him. He kicked off far too hard, and  _ shot _ into the sky. Soon he was nothing more than a black dot far above, his cries for help floating down.

“Push down, boy! Push down!” Madam Hooch called up, making a trumpet of her hands. The broom gave a sudden buck, and the class watched in horror as Neville slid sideways and slipped off, grasping after the piece of falling wood that gravity tore from his grasp. Haley was on her broom and shoving off before Madam Hooch could call hers to hand. She rocketed skyward, the old racing broom performing as if it were an extension of herself. She was acting totally on instinct. 

She caught up to Neville and tried to snatch for him, but missed. She pointed the nose of the broom straight up, stalling it out, then turning the freefall into a breakneck dive. She caught him about 50 meters up, grabbing onto the back of his robe with one hand and then  _ hauling _ up on the broom with the other. She couldn’t stop him, there was too much weight and momentum, and she was still rather small herself. She felt her shoulder strain, then pop, and she screamed but held on. They hit the ground with a thud, a wet crack coming from Neville’s arm as Haley landed on it. She rolled, biting off a fresh scream as she rolled over her injured shoulder and her head met the ground with a solid thud, then lay on the ground panting, eyes screwed shut from the pain.

“Of all the-Never in my-The rest of you,  _ everybody _ keeps their feet  _ on the ground _ until I return. I have to get these two to the Hospital wing.” she shot red sparks from her wand end, then muttered a spell Haley didn’t quite catch. She felt herself being lifted as if on a bed of clouds, and sighed as it removed pressure from her shoulder. She held still, and let the confused babble wash over her.

“But...why did she do it? She had to know she was too small to stop him…” that was...Malfoy? He sounded confused, and upset.  _ Odd...why is he upset? _ Another voice came from the babble.

“Because she’s his  _ friend _ , you prat! Not that you’d know anything about that, ruddy snake!” That was undeniably Ron. The babble got louder and turned angry, and then there was a series of dull thuds and a roar of

“ALL RIGH’ YOU LOT! EASE OFF!” and  _ that _ was Hagrid. Haley wished she could turn her head and greet the giant man properly, but a tiny test proved that to be a very bad idea as it set off sparks behind her eyes.

“Hagrid, thank you, please watch this lot while I get these two to Poppy. Nothing serious, just a cracked arm, a bump on the head and a popped shoulder.” she hastened to assure him at his wordless sound of distress.

“Yeh sure, Madam Hooch? I coul-” Haley raised her uninjured arm, reaching for where the voice came from.

“‘S all right, Hagrid, ‘m fine.” she said as her head began throbbing. She wasn’t altogether sure she was, but she didn’t like hearing the kind man so upset. She didn’t hear what came next, as she felt a large hand close over hers just as blackness claimed her.

***

Remus dismissed his Third Year Gryffindors, who were all chattering about his first lesson of the term. Boggarts were exciting, and thankfully nobody had faced any really nasty phobias so far. He was a bit concerned over their lack of some basics, but that would be fixed easy enough in the coming term. As they all chattered and bustled out, he noticed a piece of parchment drop from one of the Weasley Twins’ pocket. He bent down to scoop it up and called after them, then froze. He  _ knew _ that fold pattern.

“Messers Weasley! In my office, please!” he called, holding up the parchment casually, as if he hand picked it up off his desk, and where they could plainly see it. Credit to them, their faces remained blank even as the blood drained from them. They glanced at each other, then far too casually followed him into his office just off the classroom. He sat at his desk, set the parchment in front of him, and folded his arms, looking at the two of them.

“A problem, Professor?” Fred asked casually. He could tell them apart about 90% of the time now, subtle differences in body language and tiny unshared differences in features cluing him in. As well as his association with their uncles during Gideon and Fabian’s time in the Order.

“I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.” he responded, and kept a stony expression as the Maurauders’ Map unfolded itself and showed the whole of Hogwarts. The twins’ matching expressions of shock made it hard for him to keep a straight face.

“We swear Professor-”

“We never used it for-”

“Anything but harmless fun-”

“Except the one time we-”

“Shush Forge!”

“Sorry Gred….”

Remus shook his head at the twinspeak. Far too much like their uncles.

“Now, I know  _ for a fact _ that Argus Filch locked this particular map in his office fifteen years ago. I know that, because I’m the one that he took it from. I wasn’t as careful as I should have been.” the map blanked, and in a messy scrawl in all capitals it now read

“MISTER PRONGS WOULD LIKE TO VERY MUCH KNOW HOW MISTER MOONY MANAGED TO COCK IT UP THAT BADLY!”

“Mister Moony states that he takes no responsibility for the actions of his corporeal self.”

“Mister Padfoot things both Mister Prongs and Mister Moony need to  _ shut it _ .”

“Mister Wormtail would very much like this conversation to be  _ over _ .”

The Twins looked down at the writing, then at a grimacing Professor Lupin.

“Merlin’s beard, I’d forgotten how obnoxious we were back then.” he muttered, and couldn’t help a smile at the bewilderment on the Twins’ faces. “Moony was my schoolboy nickname. Prongs was James Potter, Wormtail was Peter Pettigrew, and Padfoot was S-Sirus Black.” he was proud he only stumbled a little over the name.  _ Just a bit longer, Siri, I promise… _ he swore silently, then turned back to the twins.

“ _ Not a word _ of this to Haley! Or anyone else!” he said firmly, staring both of them in the eyes until they nodded. “I’m keeping the map-” he held up a hand to cut off their angry retort “At least until I’m sure it hasn’t been tampered with, and that  _ I can trust you two with it _ .” he raised an eyebrow “That was careless in the extreme, to let it fall like that. Now, you both better get to your next class.” he looked meaningfully at the clock, and since he knew they had potions next, was unsurprised when they gave a squawk and dashed out, discussing which shortcuts would get them to the dungeon fastest.

Remus turned back to the map, waving his wand over it to silence the  _ personae _ of himself and his friends, in no mood for the schoolboy banter. His eyes darted over it, noting that it had worked better than he anticipated, updating itself when that secret passage into the Shack from the Castle was collapsed by the roots of the Whomping Willow. He let his eyes simply wander over it for a while, losing himself to memory, tracing the shortest path to Gryffindor Tower out of habit. His eyes settled on the Boy’s dormitory, then let his eyes wander down to the Badger’s Den, smiling wistfully as he remembered one of his dalliances with a particularly sweet Hufflepuff in Sixth Year. He found his eyes drawn to her old dorm room, when he noted an odd grey dot inside.

_ Grey? But that’s only for ani- _ he swore aloud, and prodded the dot with his wand, muttering the charm that would show him friend from foe. The dot turned bloody red, and underneath it was a name.

_ Peter Pettigrew. _

He cursed again, summoned four Patroni and sent messages to Pomona, Minerva, Snape and Filius. He met them outside the entrance to the Hufflepuff Common room, blessedly empty since all the students were in class. They quietly snuck up to the door, Remus’ eyes glued to the map. Pomona invoked her authority as Head of House to override the lock, and eased the door open.

There, snoozing away as if he’d not a care in the world, was a rat curled up on the center of the bed. The staff all filed quietly in, and then Remus shut the door with a snap. The Rat started awake, then looked around and started squeaking frantically, scurrying for the end of the bed. Remus had his wand out in a flash, barking the spell to force and Animagus back to human form, and there on the bed cowered a small man, blubbering in panic.

“Hello, Peter.” Remus said, grinning viciously “I have so many questions for you.”

The man leaped off the bed with a shriek, four stunning spells hit him at once, and he collapsed in a heap.

“I think.” Severus drawled sardonically “That we hit him too hard. Off to the Hospital Wing, I believe.” he hit Pettigrew with a body-bind, and then levitated him out the door and through the halls to the Hospital Wing. Remus couldn’t hide his savage grin.

“Thank you, Severus. By the way, do you have any Veritaserum handy?”

It was going to be a good day.

***

Haley woke groggily, recognizing the smell of the Hospital wing. Today was  _ not _ turning out to be a good day. She moaned softly and tried to sit up, feeling a small hand on her uninjured shoulder. Even that was enough to keep her from rising, she felt weak as a kitten, and her left arm was tightly bound to her side.

“None o’ that, lass.” Saoirsí said softly but firmly. “Ye took a nasty knock to th’ head. Bit of a small blessing as ye were unconscious when they set yer shoulder, but ye need to stay still a bit longer for th’ potion t’ do its work.” Haley opened her eyes and carefully turned her head to look at the Elf, who looked exasperated and worried. “T’was a brave thing ye did, but a damn fool one. Pomona’s goin’ t’ have words wi’ ye about it.” Haley groaned and used her good arm to cover her eyes.

“I just sort of...reacted.” she said softly “You’re right, it was stupid. It was the sort of thing a Gryffindor would do, but it was like my mind was-” she nearly shot bolt upright, her entire body going rigid as she forced herself to stay still. “Saoirsí, was I wearing my choker when they brought me in?” she tried to keep the panic from her voice, but some of it must have slipped through from the sharp inhale the Elf gave.

“Nae, nae ye weren’. I had t’ get it from yer room.” she said softly, and Haley swore viciously, using the words she’d learned for Uncle Vernon.

“Can you check me? Is that something you’re capable of?” she asked urgently, feeling polluted, unclean. Saoirsí said nothing, but she felt a wash of unfamiliar magic and then the elf tore off in Irish.

“ _ Itheann an cat é agus itheann an diabhal an cat! _ ” she murmured sulfurously, then a second wash of magic that made Haley’s head spin. She groaned again, and squeezed her arm tight over her face until the sensation passed. “It’s dealt with, lass. I dunno how th’ thrice-damned son of a Welsh Pig managed it, but I’ve purged it from ye. Haley, love,  _ ye have t’ remember this _ . Every day, no matter what.” Soairsí sounded sad, but fierce. Haley nodded, struck by the mix of emotions, and a thought dropped into her mind.

_ She...cares about me? _ The thought struck like a gong, rocking her world.  _ Is this what it’s like? _ Her head spun again, but not from a concussion this time. There was a very disturbing moment where the world felt unreal, like everything she had accepted as true until now was turned rapidly on its head. Then the realization sank in.  _ I have people who care about me...who worry about me… _

Just as it was sinking in, the doors burst open and Hermione and Ron flew through them. They stopped next to Haley’s bed, and Haley turned her head to notice Neville was sitting up in bed next to her, his arm in a simple sling. He grinned at her and waved a little.

“Oh, Haley, thank goodness. We’ve only just finished the lesson, it’s lunchtime.” Hermione said in a rush, hands fluttering and looking for all the world as if she wanted to tackle Haley for a hug but not sure if she should. Ron looked over at her and hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. She stilled, then smiled over at him, before she looked back to Haley and looked her over - as if she could spot something the Matron might have missed. Saoirsí stepped back out of the way of the brown-haired hurricane, and looked out the window.

“She’s right, it’s just about midday. I’ll fetch you a tray dear.” she said, then popped away, leaving Haley with her friends just as Madame Pomfrey came over.

“Oh, you’re awake. It happened on it’s own I trust?” She leveled a look at the two hale children that said plain as day that if it  _ weren’t _ , they just may be her two newest patients. At Haley’s abbreviated nod, she relaxed a trifle. “Very well. I trust Saoirsí left to get you some lunch. Your friends can stay, and if you keep down what you eat, you’ll be free to rejoin your classes, both of you. And Haley dear...are you alright without your glasses? I noticed while I was Healing the concussion that your eye muscles were weak on one side, and there was some damage from what looks like an older bump. I took care of it, I think, but let me know if they start bothering you again.” she smiled distractedly, and that was when Haley noticed that the familiar pressure on the sides of her nose was absent, and she was seeing more clearly than she remembered ever seeing. 

She was too young when Dudley hit her with Petunia’s cast iron skillet for “burning” his eggs-on-toast to remember what her vision was before that. The glasses were barely better, her Aunt having gotten them from a charity bin, but at least she could see well enough not to go running into walls, most of the time. What she saw now though was so absolutely clear that she was amazed. She could see Hermione’s subtle freckles well enough to count them.

“Oh, yes, thank you Madam Pomfrey.” She said in wonder, then grinned and used her good arm to pull Hermione into a hug, so happy she couldn’t speak, the emotions choking off the words and causing a hiccoughing sob to escape.

“Haley? What?! Are you hurt?! Wha-”

“I  _ see _ you!” She whispered fiercely, then looked around at the rest of her friends, that she did dumb things for. That worried for her. Soairsí popped back in with a baby mountain of sandwiches and Haley’s supplements, looked around in confusion, then spied Haley’s glasses still on the bedside table while the brunette wonderingly examined every detail of her friends she could politely see. She chuckled and set the sandwiches down, handing Haley her phials, which she drank automatically, then popped away again content in the knowledge that Haley was surrounded by friends.

A short time later, the ward doors burst open again, and  _ all _ four Heads of House - plus Professor Lupin - strode in with a very ratty looking man in a full body-bind. Haley recognized him from a few photos of her Mother that Filius had shared with her. She froze, staring at him in confusion, then locked eyes with Remus.

“Why is Peter Pettigrew here?”

All hell broke loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Cliffie. I’m still not apologizing.


	10. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get our first glimpse of Sirius, a bit more about Draco, and check in with Minerva, who is not having a good time, poor thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 10/15: so two sharp eyed readers noticed that I apparently forgot the premise of my own fic, and Snape took points from Gryffindor, when Haley is Hufflepuff. This has been corrected. Thank you to those readers!
> 
> chapter fought me hard. So far we’ve been guided more-or-less by the Cannon timeline. A few familiar events will still remain, but this is where things take a sharp right turn and dive off a cliff. There are quite a few hand-waves in this chapter, as I don’t want to get bogged down in minutiae and delay the plot any longer.
> 
> Warning: Lots of perspective jumps ahead, with the usual dividers.

Ron’s eyes went wide. He’d overheard stories about Peter’s final moments and how Sirius Black had gone insane and killed him after betraying Haley’s parents. He looked at Neville and noticed he was white as a sheet, but his wand was in his hand and his knuckles were white. Hermione was also watching things warily. Ron wondered how she knew who Pettigrew was. _Probably read it in a book somewhere, with how much she chatters on about what she reads it’s hard for me to keep track. Cor, her memory is amazing._ He thought to himself, but stayed quiet. Mostly because it would have been impossible to be heard over the adults all shouting questions at the same time, mostly along the lines of how Haley knew Pettigrew on site, if she’d ever met him, who told her, blah blah blah. Typical adult panic when someone they decided was “too innocent” knew about Adult Stuff. He looked at Haley, and noticed her eyes screwed shut. Oh, bollocks to that. Madam Pomfrey said something about a concussion, being shouted at must hurt. He sent a silent apology to her, then stood up so he was further from her ear before he took a deep breath and bellowed

“SHUUUUT IIIIIT!” which brought instant silence, and then because he realized he just shouted at most of his professors, he gulped and added “...erm, please, Professors? It’s just that Haley’s taken a knock on the skull an’ all the shoutin’ was hurting her...uhm….sorry.” he flushed and braced himself for at least Snape to say something cutting and snide and assign him detention. There was a beat of silence as the professors all looked at each other, then Sprout stepped forward.

“Mr. Weasely, five points for your loyalty, but don’t do it again, hm?” Ron nodded and gave her a hesitant sheepish smile. She winked and walked over to Haley while the rest got Peter into a bed and stood over him, wands out. Snape broke off and swooped from the room, murmuring something about his office. Ron watched as Sprout approached Haley and looked her over.

“I’m sorry for not being here sooner, dearie. Bit of a mess in the Dorms, what happened?” Haley opened her mouth, but Neville interrupted.

“It was my fault, Professor Sprout. I lost control of my broom in Flying lessons, and Haley saved me, only she wasn’t big enough to hold me up so she just sort of made us crash slower. We’re a bit banged up but we’re okay, honest! I’ll do better next time! I-” he choked off his words and sat in his bed, hands clutching his sheets now. Ron went and patted him on the back gently, and Sprout looked torn between pride and something else.

“Well.” She turned to look at Haley, and raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for her side. Haley sighed and obliged.

“Neville kicked off too hard and went too high. He panicked and his magic severed from the broom, which bucked him off. I went after him, missed, dove and caught him. I tried to pull it out but because I’m too small, it didn’t work. I popped my shoulder out. When we hit, I landed on his arm, which broke, and whacked my head. But I’m better! Really! Just a headache and Madam Pomfrey says if I can keep down food I can go back to lessons.” Haley was flushed, and Sprout looked like someone hit her with a board.

“And...where was Madam Hooch?” Sprout asked, and Haley flushed even brighter.

“I uh...don’t know. I didn’t look. I just took off.” she looked and sounded absolutely miserable, as if she expected to be roundly told off, and she was hunching in as if she expected to be beaten. Ron knew that look. The Twins had it whenever Mum went off on them. He shot a look at Hermione, the nodded at Haley. Hermione looked confused until Ron patted Neville’s back again, then she nodded as well and gently put her arms around Haley, offering comfort. Haley at first hunched more, then took a deep breath and untensed her muscles. Sprout looked completely unreadable, then reached out and laid a gentle hand on Haley’s head.

“Miss Potter...Haley, dear, I need you to promise me something, okay? I am _so proud_ that you want to help and protect your friends - you too Neville - but you need to give the adults a chance first, love. I know it might not come naturally to you, but I want you to try. Can you promise me that?” Haley frowned, and looked up at Professor Sprout, looking into her eyes for a long moment, before slowly nodding.

“O-okay. Yes, Professor Sprout, I’ll...I’ll try.” she replied, and then started when someone cleared their voice from the other side of the bed. Ron looked over to see Professor McGonagall, standing there looking...sad? What? _Is it bloody Topsy Turvy day and nobody told me?_ He wondered to himself.

“And you will write to Doctor Kaur about this. Before you leave the wing. She sent me an owl this morning asking after you, since she has not heard from you in two weeks. I will also make you a promise, and I’m certain Pomona will agree. If you try to tell an adult something, and you don’t feel like they listened, send Soairsí to one of us. I’ll brief Filius and Remus as well. We are here to help you, please give us a chance to prove that.” Ron looked gobsmacked a second, then shut his jaw and started _thinking_. He may not be the best at books, and there might be a lot of things about dealing with people he didn’t know, but he was a hell of a chess player. He could see patterns, spot moves, and put together information very rapidly. And right now, all the signs spotted to Haley having an even rougher time of it than she’d let on. He locked eyes with Hermione, saw her come to the same conclusion, and they shared a nod. Haley, and to a lesser extent Neville, needed to be shown they weren’t alone in life. He and Hermione were going to do their best to remind them as frequently as necessary.

***

Haley was sunk in misery. She was useless, a burden, that nasty voice in her head that sounded like Aunt Petunia was absolutely right. Minerva was disappointed in her, Sprout too. They knew she couldn’t measure up and so they made her promise, _promise_ , to go running to one of them any time anything went wrong. How could they mean that? What adult wanted a little kid hanging off their coat-tails? Haley took the quill and parchment that Pomona brought, and scribbled out a letter in shaky handwriting to her therapist.

 _I failed. I’m useless. I screwed up and now Minerva and Pomona know it and have to put up with me being a burden. Remus and Filius too. And my friends. I’m sorry, I don’t want to waste your time. I understand if you don’t want to help me anymore. Thank you._ She folded it, sealed it with her ring, and looked up to find Saoirsí at her bedside, Hedwig balanced on a staff on her shoulders. She gave the Elf a smile, pretending everything was okay, and tied the letter to Hedwig's leg, petting the owl and murmuring to her. She headbutted Haley, nibbled her ear and then took off out a window. Haley shrunk in on herself and nibbled a sandwich. She didn’t even really want to go back to her lessons, what was the point? She let the chatter of her friends wash over her, not really paying attention except to give monosyllabic grunts when they asked her something.

Eventually Madam Pomfrey came over, looked at the empty platter of sandwiches, and pronounced her and Neville fit to leave the Hospital wing. She picked up her satchel, slung it crosswise from her good shoulder and trudged out behind her friends. It took her a moment to register that Neville was walking beside her, quiet, but looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s okay. You did good. And hey, thanks. Even if Madam Hooch was probably about to cast something to catch me, that was really cool.” He smiled at her, and she blinked, confused as that simple statement shattered the mental model she was building.

“Uhm...yeah. Yeah, you’re welcome? Erm. Don’t mention it. Any time.” she said awkwardly, and found the idea of the coming class held a bit more appeal after all. They passed through the corridors, descending into the dungeons. Haley looked around nervously, the dim, damp walls reminding her unnervingly of the crawl spaces under her Aunt’s house. Or her old cupboard when the upstairs shower was left running too long. She sneezed, and wrapped her school robe closer around her to stave off the chill. She wasn’t looking at her friends, but Hermione reached out to her, stopping just before she touched.

“Are you all right, Haley?” she asked, and Haley shook her head. “Can I touch you?” Haley hesitated a moment, unsure, before slowly nodding. A hint of warmth as Hermione’s hand gently came to light on her shoulder, and she looked back at her friend with a flicker of a smile.

“Thanks...just...not a fan of cold, dark places.” she says quietly, then takes a deep breath and straightens her posture. She wasn’t there, would never be there again if she had any say in it, and things were different now. She had friends. _What was it Doctor Kaur said? Focus on the moment. See things as they are now, not how they relate to what was._

It was a good thing she broke herself out of the momentary funk, because a dishearteningly familiar platinum blond boy was waiting outside the classroom, surrounded in a sea of green.

They had Potions with the Slytherins.

***

Severus Snape was _absolutely bloody furious_.

 _Damn_ that rat! Why the hell couldn’t he just _stay dead_ and save everyone a lot of trouble? Why couldn’t Sirius Black be guilty and finally, _finally_ face the consequences of his actions? Instead, _instead_ , that so-called “White sheep” was going to go skipping free _again_ , while Severus was still stuck in the same place he’d been for the past thirteen years!

He raged internally, a long habit at the level of survival instinct keeping anything of his internal feeling from his face or body language. A spy who wore their emotions in the open was very quickly an _ex_ spy, and he had no intention of giving his many detractors the bloody satisfaction.

Spite was sometimes a potent weapon.

He’d fetched the vial of veritaserum as soon as the Wolf called all the staff together - except, notably, the Headmaster. Perhaps he was not entirely without intelligence. Albus likely would have tried to sweep this under the rug, as another component in his grand plans for the so-called “Greater good”. Severus was not alive when that phrase was used by Grindlewald, but because of his mother’s family, he knew it and saw it for what it was.

_So you go from making a deal with one devil, to another. I accept my sins. Unlike some._

The memories came, almost against Severus’ will.

 _The night was damp and dark, but the sky clear, the moon a baleful yellow eye above. Severus_ knew _those cretins were out here somewhere, he’d overheard Potter talking to Black. He was going to catch them in the act, and_ then _there would be a reckoning! If he could only find them._

 _He searched the open lawn with his eyes, standing still in the shadows of the night, and_ there! _He spotted what he thought was the swish of a cloak as it vanished behind a hummock. He followed, silently, wand at the ready. At last, at last he would find his-_

Severus shook himself out of the memory before he came face-to-face with the transformed Lupin. Before Potter and Black came charging in, Black transformed to a massive black church-grim and Potter shoved Severus behind him and hustled him backwards into the castle while the Werewolf and the Grim wrestled.

He especially didn’t want to relive the aftermath, when _he_ had been lectured as if he had done something wrong. Where _he_ had been blamed. _Albus told me I was getting off easy. That he was protecting me. Fat lot of good it did! Imbecile._ He stopped short in the corridor and drew a deep breath. He was about to meet his current crop of First Years. Hufflepuff and Slytherin. He needed to be calm, collected, and alert. It was one of his iron-clad personal rules. _Never brew emotional. And_ especially _around your students. They’ll make plenty of idiotic mistakes themselves, you don’t need to add to it!_

When he felt he had a good hold of his temper, he swept around the corner and found his students in an uproar already, Draco Malfoy facing Haley Potter. Draco had his wand out, pointed at Potter.

“SILENCE! All of you!” he snapped out, his voice cutting through the bedlam as he stalked through the crowd. “Malfoy! Lower. Your. Wand.” he gritted out, staring Draco dead in the eyes.

***

Draco Malfoy; son of Lucius Malfoy, Head of the Board of Governors, Senior Wizengamot member and Lord of one of the richest Houses this side of the Blacks, was also furious. He did not know it, but his fury was that of a child, hot and bright and all the shorter for it. Regardless, to him it swallowed his whole mind, made his ears roar and his vision go red. He hadn’t even realized he’d drawn his wand until it was in his hand. That stupid girl’s words still rang in his ears. All he’d done was make some idle remark that she still wasn’t associating with peers of her level, he’d been trying to _help_ her! Just like his Father said! She was an Heir, and while the Potter house wasn’t _exalted_ as much as some, they were still Noble, and Ancient. Legend said they could trace history to the _Peverell_ family, which was one of the oldest and most celebrated. Surely she had to _know_ this! So why was she hanging around with a blood-traitor like Weasley, or that useless lump Longbottom, or that _mudblood_ girl, what was her name, Granger? It made no sense, and then she had the _arrogance_ to insult _him_ when he tried to give her advice?

The jinx was on his tongue when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Mister Malfoy. Lower. Your. Wand.”

Severus Snape was a family friend. Was, in fact, his godfather. He knew that the Professor’s loyalty was more to his mother than his father, and knew who he would report to, if he felt one was warranted. Draco was afraid of disappointing his father, but _terrified_ that even a hint of wrongdoing would make it back to his mother. Of the pair, she was harsher when it came to punishments. He lowered his wand, his face burning scarlet, and turned to face Snape.

“Professor, she-”

“Enough. Mister Malfoy, while the Potter brat likely deserved it, I _will not tolerate spells near my classroom._ See me after class. Miss Potter, five points from Hufflepuff for picking a fight. All of you, inside.” the Professor paused a moment, then snapped “Now!”

Draco was the first one through the door.

***

Haley was angry, but mostly at herself.

 _That was dumb. I shouldn’t have provoked him like that. But URGH! He just sets my teeth on edge. Stupid prat._ She fumed silently, and nearly missed the start of Severus’ lesson. She listened intently, keeping her head down and wincing internally as he snapped questions that the students couldn’t hope to know. Haley had read ahead a little in their text, and nothing was mentioned about Monkshood (which was apparently also called Wolfsbane), Beazors, or Draught of Living Death. She hadn’t interacted with him much over the summer, but from what Filius and Pomona had said, he wasn’t usually this big of a bully. Haley shook herself from her reverie as she caught the prickle of active magic, and she saw instructions appear on the board.

Thank god for the Potions primer. She knew that she would have to keep utter concentration as she brewed, letting just enough, no more and no less of her magic flow into each ingredient as she prepared it, and then again along her stirring rod as she stirred the right number of times in the right directions.

She was halfway through the instructions when there was a cry from the table in front of her. Neville and Ron jumped back as Neville’s cauldron had a spectacular meltdown. Severus was there immediately, vanishing the cauldron and the mess. She wasn’t sure anyone else saw, but she was at just the right angle to see that his eyes darted over both boys before he delivered a stinging lecture to Neville.

 _That shouldn’t have happened...not with such a simple potion._ She thought furiously for a moment, but then gave it up as a bad job. She didn’t know enough about Neville to even guess at what went wrong. She shot a look at Hermione, who looked back at her in confusion. She scribbled something on a bit of parchment, as if she were making a note, then tilted the paper as she set down her quill so Hermione could read it. _Talk later, Neville_. It read. Hermione nodded once, as if to herself as she added one of the final ingredients to her cauldron. Haley scratched out the note as if she had changed her mind, then began stirring, watching her potion take on the color and consistency described on the board. Snape swept by, and sniffed over the cauldrons on the table Haley and Hermione were sharing. He said nothing before sweeping away down the aisle. Haley wasn’t tracking how much time had passed, and so she gave a little start as Snape’s voice came from the front of the room again.

“Enough. Decant your brews and leave them on the tables. Mister Malfoy, up front.” Haley carefully poured out her potion and left a stoppered flask on her workstation after cleaning off the spare ingredients. She tried not to look at the front of the room, she didn’t want to provoke anything further, she just kept her eyes on her friends, and when Ron finally got his things packed away, led the way out of the room.

“Blimey, y’think Snape’s telling little Lord Prat off?” Ron asked, and Haley shrugged.

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s not worth a fuss. C’mon, we need to talk before dinner.” she looked around and darted into an empty classroom, pulling out her Potions primer from her bag.

***

Severus looked down at his godson, a very faint frown on his lips and creasing his brow.

“Draco, do you know who you were pointing your wand at?” he asks, his voice mild. The boy gave him a confused look, before nodding and opening his mouth.

“It was just Pot-”

“Be quiet.” Severus snapped, shocking the boy into silence “You are correct. That was Haley Potter. Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, whose fortune dwarfs even your family’s. Who will wield an astounding amount of political power, when she comes of age. And who has some sort of odd connection to Hogwarts itself. No other student has _ever_ had the Founder Portraits speak for them, much less countermand a sitting Headmaster. All of which you are more than capable of deducing for yourself, if you bother to _use_ the excellent intellect that your mother has trained into you. Now, given all that, what possible cause would you have to antagonize her? _What could you possibly gain_ from attacking her at this point?” Draco opened his mouth again, and then shut it when Snape glared at him. He dropped his eyes, staring at the floor a moment, before looking back up at Severus.

“Nothing.” he muttered, almost mutinously.

“Dammit, boy, _think!_ You would gain not one, but _two_ enemies among Ancient houses. Longbottom may be a useless lump, but he _is_ the Heir of that particular family. They still hold their own power. Morgana’s crown, Draco, you’re acting like one of those dunderheads in Gryffindor. You’re a Slytherin. Kindly act like it. Now, get out, and if you draw a wand in my dungeons again it better be for a good reason.”

Draco nodded, and trudged out of the room. Severus took a deep breath. _I didn’t mean to be that harsh, but he’s being an idiot. Speaking of idiots._

“Caoimhe, are you free?” he asks the open air, and a House Elf pops into the classroom.

“How kin I help ye, Professor?” the elf asks, and Snape nods to her in greeting. He’d discovered the small group of old Elves at Hogwarts in his third year, they were some of his only friends during his school days. Saoirsí in particular had all but adopted him. If the rumor mill was correct, she’d done nearly the same to Haley.

“I need to get to the Hospital wing without being seen.” he said, and Caoimhe held out her hand wordlessly. He grasped it, and with a soft pop, they were gone.

***

Minerva McGonagall was thinking longingly of her fire and the tin of shortbread in her rooms. This was proving to be a long, long day, and it looked to be getting longer. They had questioned Pettigrew under Veritaserum, then stunned him unconscious when they heard the tale. Minerva had sent the rest onto their classes at that point, and stayed behind, using Poppy’s fireplace to make several Floo calls. The longer she’d worked, the worse her headache had gotten.

“What the hell do you _mean_ you have no record of a trial?” she snapped at the latest Wizengamot clerk she’d been foisted off on. “Sirius Orion Black the Third, _Heir_ to House Black, is _currently in a cell in Azkaban_ and has been for eleven years! Surely you aren’t telling me that he was put there _without a trial_!” The Clerk cringed, and then took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Professor McGonagall, but all I can say at this time is that we have no record of a trial for anyone by that name. Please, I have to get back to work. Good day, madam.” and the call disconnected. Minerva grunted and sat back on the low stool she was using in front of her fireplace. She tapped her lips a moment, then tossed another handful of powder in and stuck her head in the emerald flames.

“Amelia Bones, Authorization 153 Minerva. Condition Violet, no protocols.” then she sat back to wait. A few moments later, Madam Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, stepped through her fireplace.

“Minnie. I hope this really is that important, we’ve got-”

“I found Peter Pettigrew.” she interrupted, and had to fight down a smile at the look on her former boss’ face. “I found him masquerading as a rat, in the possession of the youngest Weasley boy. Apparently he was also with William Weasley during his time here. They were under the impression that the rat was somehow magical, and that’s why it was living so long.” Madam Bones snorted, shaking her head, and Minerva nodded.

“Precisely. I think if Arthur weren’t working so much, he’d have noticed. Molly has decided to ignore her logic, I think. Ever since Gideon and Fabian. If she pretends everything is alright aggressively enough, then it will be.” Minerva sighed and shrugged.

“Regardless, I found him, alive and intact save for his finger. It looks like he spelled it off himself. And now I come to find out that Sirius Black has never stood before the Wizengamot.” Amelia drew a sharp breath at that, then let it out in a slow exhale, and her face dropped slowly.

“Well.” she said as she drew herself up to her full height again. “It seems we’ve got a new top priority. Show me to him.” Madam Bones stepped to the side, and Minerva led the way out of her office to the Hospital Wing.

An hour later, a contingent of Ministry Hit Wizards arrives at the castle. As most of the student body are at dinner, this goes mostly unnoticed. They quietly leave with a small, ratlike man, again stunned unconscious.

Four hours after that, with Headmaster Albus Dumbledor none the wiser, Sirius Orion Black III walks out the gates of Azkaban a free man. He passes Peter Pettigrew on his way in, and gives a not-at-all sane smile full of vicious satisfaction. His ruined voice broke into an off-key carol, and the bargeman gave him a wary look, but he simply grinned at him and cut off the song.

“Apologies. It’s just, Christmas has come early for me, you see. I feel rather celebratory.”

Miles away, in the Hufflepuff dorm, Haley sits with Neville and Hermione, poring over several books from the library, frowning slightly over what she’s reading. Neville has a look of bewilderment mixed with hope, and Hermione is taking copious notes with one hand, while the fingers of the other tap a rhythm on her chair arm, utterly unaware of the shift of fates that has just taken place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNN
> 
> No but really, these are mostly good changes. See you all next time!


	11. Black and Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius begins the road to recovery. Haley’s therapist writes back, we find a bit more about this Keeper business, and the 7th years make an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for negative self-thoughts, referenced malnutrition, and internalized transphobia.
> 
> SOOOO much of this I wanted to do in the last chapter, but it was getting long and I didn’t want to overwhelm y’all or rush things. 
> 
> I super appreciate all your comments, they’ve all been wonderfully supportive. Even the one or two critical comments were justified and pointed out things I had failed to consider. Thank you all for continuing to read, and I hope you’ll continue to follow our girl in her adventures to come.

_ Haley, _

_ Of course I still want to help you. That is why I asked Professor McGonagall to remind you to write to me. On reflection, that may not be the best method. Would it help if I were to write to you instead? Say, twice a week, to check in? You can always send a letter sooner if you need help, but this way you won’t have to be worried you’re bothering me? Please write back soon and let me know. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Dr. Amandeep Kaur, ACP _

_ MInistry Certified _

Haley stared at the letter and sighed, poking at her dinner.  _ That was stupid. I shouldn’t have written that. Now I’m making more work for her.  _ She sighed again and dug a quill out of her bag, scrawling a reply on the parchment below the neat handwriting.

_ Dr. Kaur, _

_ I don’t want to be any trouble, but if it won’t put you out, that would be a good idea. I forget things, a lot. If it’s not right in front of me, it’s like it doesn’t exist. Thank you. _

_ Haley _

She handed the note back to Hedwig and picked out a piece of kidney for her to eat before she took the note back. She caressed the snowy owl’s back feathers while she bolted the meat. Hedwig hooted softly and booted her head into Haley’s hand before launching from the table, winging her way through the high clerestory window through which all the owls entered and exited the hall.

Haley watched her go, and then looked back at her friends. She was still getting used to having them. She shook her head and took a deep breath, applying herself to her meal. After dinner, they all returned to the Den and finished up a last bit of homework, then Tonks, Owens and Penzie all spontaneously got it into their heads to re-enact some piece of Magi drama. It was something like Hamlet, but told from the perspective of the Hags, which weren’t any such thing according to the narrative. It was fascinating, but even so Haley found herself nodding before they were done. Hermione nudged her a little and nodded off to the dorms, and she saw a few others also quietly slipping off to bed.

Reassured that it wouldn’t be rude, she smiled at the girl quickly becoming her best friend with an absent-minded wonder at  _ how _ quickly that was happening. She slipped through the crowd of students and down the hall, stifling a yawn behind her hand. She barely remembered getting into her room before she collapsed on the bed and was out.

***

It felt like only a few moments later when she came screaming and thrashing up from a nightmare. Dr. Kaur had warned her they might start happening, as her subconscious registered that she felt safe and began working on all the things she had repressed over her life so far.  _ Processing _ , she had called it. Haley took a few deep breaths, looking around her room until her heart rate calmed. She cast a quiet  _ tempus _ , and saw that it was around four in the morning.

_ Well...I’m not going back to sleep any time soon. And I itch. Ugh. Reminder to self, no matter how tired you are, take tights  _ off _ before falling asleep. _ She pulled a face and grabbed fresh clothing, not willing to peel herself out of the current sweat-soaked set until she could shove them in a hamper for the Elves. She slipped quietly out of her room and down the hall into the showers, marvelling again at how much better her night vision was now that she could  _ see _ .

_ Damn Petunia anyway. _ She thought savagely as she finally got out of her dirty uniform and stepped under the warm spray, scented with sandalwood and amber. It took her a couple weeks before term to figure out that combination, but she’d stuck with it since and it was a habit now.  _ How bloody hard would it have been to get me a set of  _ proper _ glasses? Or really anything except the first set that fell to hand? _ She attacked her hair with a bit more vigor than necessary, getting her fingers tangled. She swore softly but savagely to herself as she carefully freed them.

Her anger turned to tears as she let the water run over her neck and shoulders, feeling free to let her emotions out in a place she knew she wouldn’t be heard or seen. She’d done the same thing on Privet Drive, though there she had always been careful not to take “too long”, lest Petunia come drag her out by her hair and spray her down with the garden hose. Here she knew she could linger as long as she liked at this hour, but she still shut off the water - in both senses - after about 20 minutes. She’d read and heard about some people crying for hours, but she couldn’t imagine how they kept up the energy.

She used a damp towel to wipe her face, then dried off and put fresh clothes on. Another charm told her it was nearer to five than four, and she sighed.  _ I hope this doesn’t become a regular thing. Well. Breakfast isn’t for a couple hours yet. _ She stepped out of the shower room into the hall, heading for her room to grab a book to read by the fire for a while.

She came out of her room to find Tonks standing in the door across the hall, arms folded and leaning on the frame, with a knowing smile on her face.

“Wotcher, Haley. Couldn’t sleep?” She asked in that soft tone that everyone uses in pre-dawn. Haley blushed and nodded, and Tonks tilted her head towards the common room. Haley nodded and fell into step beside the 7th year. Tonks gave her a reassuring smile and went out to the common room, flopping on one of the extra-large cushions on the floor. There was enough room for Haley to share it, if she chose, but Tonks didn’t indicate one way or another. Haley played it safe, choosing a smaller cushion nearby, fingers worrying the corner of the hardbound book as she looked down at it. She didn’t know what was expected of her in this situation, so she just stayed quiet, a flush creeping onto her cheeks as that poisonous internal monologue started again.

_ Freak, useless, trash, can’t even sleep through the night without someone to hold your hand. You deserve to be kicked out. Look at you, wasting this older girl’s time. You’re not even a real  _ girl _! _

The tears started at that. Silent, with barely a shudder of her shoulders to show them. Tonks made a soft sound in her throat, as if someone  _ she _ were hurt, and that caught Haley’s attention as nothing else could. Her head snapped up, and she saw the look in Tonks’ eyes. Understanding, compassion, sympathy, but not  _ pity. _ Pity would have made her angry, but the mixture she saw only made the tears flow faster. That terrible internal voice that sounded so much like Petunia Dursley was  _ shrieking _ at her. All her upbringing and instincts shrilled an alarm, told her to run, to hide, to not show the weakness.

At the same time, all she had seen in the few months before term, all she had learned so far, insisted that  _ she could trust this woman _ . The two internal urgings fought and warred, pulling Haley between them like a piece of taffy, stretching her further and further. Something within her snapped, with an almost audible shift, and she flung herself sobbing at the young woman.

***

Tonks caught the little girl effortlessly, folding her into a hug and making soothing noises as she sobbed, still nearly silent, into Tonks’ shoulder. She’d been very careful not to place anything on the girl. Nothing that could be construed as an order or a demand, simply giving her space and time to choose what to tell her, if anything.

Tonks was  _ no _ therapist, she had plenty of baggage of her own, but the funny thing about that is at a certain point you can use what you’ve learned dealing with your own baggage to help others. That was part of Tonks’ motivation for going for the Aurors as a career. She figured she could use some of these tools to help bring people in without a fight, maybe even get them to realize there was another way. She didn’t think she could “fix” people, but she thought she could help, so she had to try.

Her Da had cried himself when she explained it to him. She felt a fond little glow as she thought of how proud he’d been of her in that moment.

So she used those tools now. She let Haley determine the way this would unfold, simply by keeping herself open, but not expressing one way or another how she felt. She chose a cushion that they could easily both fit on, and didn’t make a sound either way when Haley chose to sit on another nearby. She caught the fidget, and the growing blush. She had opened her mouth to reassure, to explain that she wasn’t trying to make Haley do anything she didn’t want to, when she saw the tears start. What came out instead was a sound of sympathetic hurt. Those sadistic Muggles had clearly done their best to  _ break _ this sweet child, and that  _ hurt _ . 

It reminded her of the stories her mother told of Crazy Aunt Bellatrix, how even at Hogwarts she’d been the worst sort of bully, twisting other students around and manipulating them so that they were emotional wrecks, that would shatter with the tiniest push. How she used the threat of that to get them to do whatever she wanted. That was exactly the kind of thing Tonks hoped to prevent. So to see someone so  _ young _ subject to it was heartbreaking.

She let the understanding, the sympathy, the compassion she felt stand naked in her eyes. She had a terrible poker face, but in this situation that worked in her favor. She didn’t  _ pity _ this small child. No, pity was for things broken beyond repair, beyond salvage. What she saw so far led her to believe that Haley wasn’t broken yet. She would be angry later, when she was in her room. She’d probably call Charlie and Bill and rail and curse and move some of their plans up.

Right now she focused on Haley, as the girl’s emotional bulwarks burst and she flung herself at Tonks. She held her gently and made wordless soothing noises as the girl cried herself out. She still let Haley set the tone, as soon as the girl squirmed a little and pulled away, she opened her arms and let her choose where to sit. All she did was produce a handkerchief so Haley could wipe away the worst of the damage.

“Thank you.” the girl sniffed quietly, and started to withdraw into herself.  _ Now _ Tonks needed to take action.

“It’s all right, Haley. Things have been hard for you, yeah? I bet you’ve been about the happiest you’ve ever been before, this last little bit. Had to come down some time, and it’s not surprising to come down this hard. We have one or two that it happens to every year. That’s why we mix the years in our dorm. We watch out for our younger housemates, as payback for  _ our _ seniors watching out for us.” she spoke gently, dropped a lot of her boisterous act. Her hair had shifted to a muted dark purple.  _ Damned hair. That’s the other reason I can’t play cards for a damn. Hell of a tell. Need to ask Mad-Eye about that. _

She watched Haley think about that a moment, and then nod, uncurling a little. Fawkes waddled over and plonked his head into Haley’s lap. Clearly the Phoenix had decided that the solemnity was done. It’s impossible to watch a bird waddle along like that, then so clearly beg for attention, without at least cracking a smile. Haley did exactly that and obliged the firebird, smoothing the crest feathers back and then going for a deep scratch at the base of the head. Fawkes trilled a bit of phoenix song, and Haley broke into an outright grin, as the enchanted chirps and trills had their legendary effect. Tonks did as well, and everything felt right with the world. A jaw-cracking yawn broke the spell, for Tonks anyway, and she got up and stretched.

“I’m back to bed for a bit. Still a couple hours til breakfast. Enjoy the book.” she turned and wandered back into the dorms, face-planting into her pillow with a groan, and back to sleep almost immediately.

***

Sirius Black started out of a sound sleep and flailed around him, shouting incoherently. He had a confused impression of small hands grabbing him, and then shouting. Not the dim, faded, echoey shouts of his Dementor-invoked memories, but real human voices, sharp with concern and urgency. It was the shouting that calmed him, so utterly unlike the shrieks of his fellow prisoners or the phantoms of the past.

“-ius! Calm  _ down _ , lad! You’re safe! Let the Healers do their work!” wait a second, he knew that voice.

“M-miner-” he dissolved into coughing. Something was pressed to his lips, and he drank without hesitation, feeling the cool soothing draught slide down his throat. God, it had been so long since he had clean water.

“Minerva…?” he tried again, and the warm half-exasperated chuckle told him all he needed to know.

“In the flesh, Mister Black. Now that you’ve regained your sense, will you let the Healers work on you? You’re currently in the bowels of Gringotts, as it seems your family contracted you to have all of your medical assessments and treatments performed by the Goblins, rather than Saint Mungos.” there was none of the trace disapproval that most would have used with that statement, and a corner of Sirius’ mind wondered just what had happened while he’d been...away. Sirius nodded assent and lay back, his mind slowly chugging into life after so long focused solely on survival.

“Minerva, little Harry, I-”

“Shush, Sirius. There are many things you need to know, and you need to be in better health to hear them. Rest assured, your Godchild is safe, and  _ not _ with Petunia Dursley.”

Sirius went absolutely still at that, locked his limbs rigid because if he did anything less, he was going to start hitting things. The rage in him  _ roared _ .

“Why, praytell, would I be concerned about that? It was James and Lilly’s express wish, written in both of their wills, that at no point was any progeny of theirs to be within the same  _ city _ as that spiteful hag Petunia and that useless lump of a husband of hers.” he was proud of how mild he was able to keep his voice. Minerva cleared her throat and he heard her feet shift awkwardly. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. Sirius put a few things together in one of those intuitive leaps that he had been somewhat known for, then took a deep breath.

“I will kill him. Slowly.” he stated flatly, and Minerva sighed. Finally Sirius cracked an eyeball and took a slightly blurry look at his old Head of House. She looked more careworn, and with a rage that equaled his, under much tighter control.

“You will have to join the queue, Sirius. But first you must  _ rest _ . You’re malnourished, dehydrated, your muscles are atrophied, and I’m shocked you’re as sane as you are. You’ll be weeks in recovering just from the physical damage. The mental…” she gave a helpless little shrug.

Sirius grimaced, but relaxed with a sigh. He felt various warm and cold sensations as they swept gently over his body, signs of the Goblin healers as they did their best to repair the worst of the damage. A thought struck him, and he groaned and let his eyes roll skyward.

“This means I have to talk to a therapist, doesn’t it?” he practically whined. Minerva gave another chuckle, and patted his arm gently.

“Yes, my lad, I’m afraid it does. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the terrifying mind healer.”

He gave another long suffering sigh, and let his body relax. As much as he wanted to leap up, find his pup, and rip Albus’ throat out, he would content himself with devising the  _ worst _ pranks known to Man or Marauder and imagining the reactions to them.

***

Hermione rubbed her eyes and covered a yawn as she hurried down the halls. She’d been in the Library, pouring over books, looking for anything like what had happened to Neville. She’d barely slept, thinking about it all, and got up as soon as it was allowed for students to roam the halls.  _ I think this is beyond us. Sure, I can read faster than everyone, and I’m at least mildly familiar with research methods, but we don’t even  _ really _ know what we’re looking for. I...I wonder if Professor Sprout might have an idea? Oh...but I hate the thought of giving up so soon. It’s only been a day...maybe we can think up another tactic. Something other than grabbing any book that mentions potions accidents and reading them all. _

She was deep in her own thoughts, both of Neville’s problem and of her warm bedroom. She wasn’t paying much attention when she ran smack into someone in a jet black, hooded robe. She squeaked in surprise and fell backwards, landing on her rump. The next thing she registered beyond a sense of embarrassment was the overpowering smell of  _ garlic _ . She coughed, then managed to get an apology out.

“S-sorry, erm…..sir? Madam? I’m a first year, I’m not familiar with all the staff yet, erm…..who are you?” she was babbling, and knew it, her cheeks growing darker as she blushed. The figure turned toward her, and she froze, eyes wide as an overwhelming aura of  _ danger _ fixed her to the spot. Like a rabbit who faced a viper, or a stag that stared, stunned by the bright headlights of the car that was about to collide with it. The figure raised it’s hand, and what she mistook for an exceptionally bony finger raised to the border of the hood. A soft, sibilant sound somewhere between a shush and a serpent’s hiss came from the shadows of the hood, and before she could scream, there was a flash of red, and she knew no more.

***

Haley was on her feet before she registered what was wrong. Hogwarts was practically  _ screaming _ a warning, the wards of the castle vibrating like a bell. Fawkes gave a scream of defiance and vanished in a flash of fire, and a barrage of urges  _ slammed _ into Haley’s mind.  _ Go, go GO! Danger! Protect! FIGHT! _ She shook her head, clamping her hand around the charm of her choker. The protections amplified with the increased contact, and she stumbled towards Professor Sprout’s door. She pounded on it, calling for her Head of House. A few moments later, a wild-haired, sleepy-eyed Pomona Sprout flung the door open, almost sending Haley sprawling.

“Something’s wrong, someone’s hurt, third floor corridor, near the Library.” she gasps out, a pressure so large as to be indistinguishable from pain building in her head. She cried out and fell to her knees, that clamoring returning as she let go of her pendant to clutch her head. The urges were all-consuming, pushing every other thought from her mind. Finally she sobbed out a desperate plea that _it_ _hurt, please stop!_

The clamor abated, leaving her gasping. Pomona was hastily throwing on a robe, wand out and face like a thundercloud. She barked a name, Haley didn’t catch it, but it wasn’t one of those horribly twee names that the younger elves all had. Sure enough, an older Elf popped into the room and took Pomona’s arm without a word, and they vanished. A moment later Soairsí had Haley by the elbow, and Collins and Penzie came through the common room at the run, followed shortly thereafter by Tonks and a boy about her age that Haley didn’t recognize.

“C’m _ ON _ , Perkins! Shift it!” Tonks barked over her shoulder and put on a burst of speed, catching up to the two Prefects. The boy just looked grim and put on a bit more speed himself. The clamor died even more, and Haley went limp in relief.

“Now lass, I’m nae strong enough to lift ye myself, c’mon. Up, I need to get ye off this stone floor.” Saoirsí urged softly. Haley took a deep breath and shakily got to her feet, bracing on the wall. She took a few more deep breaths, and slowly started feeling less like a used dishrag. Saoirsí’s expression was grim, her mouth a tight line of displeasure.

“What….the  _ buggering hell _ ….was  _ that _ ?” she said slowly, pushing off the wall and staggering to a chair by the fire. She fell into it, limp again, feeling like she’d just been run over by a lorry.

“That’d be part o’ being the Keeper. Meant t’ help, it is. To warn any time there’s a student in danger, but  _ ‘TIS NAE S’POSE T’ PUT TH’ KEEPER IN DANGER THEMSELVES _ .” the Elf glared daggers at the ceiling, and Haley felt almost like the castle was  _ apologetic _ . A gentle trickle of energy flowed into her core, like the first sip of a warm drink on a cold night, and she felt a little better. Saoirsí stayed with her a moment, popped off and came back with a mug of steaming tea, thick witch honey, then popped away again to help with breakfast.

She stayed in the chair as the rest of the House awoke slowly, unaware of the chaos of a few minutes before. Haley pretended to read, until Neville and Ron found her and called sleepy greetings. They waited a bit for Hermione...then a bit longer...finally, by the time the Common Room was empty, everyone off at Breakfast, Haley levered herself out of her chair and went to knock on her friend’s door. When there was no answer, she knocked louder. Finally, she called Saoirsí back. The Elf laid a hand on the door, and shook her head.

“She’s nae here. I suggest ye get on to breakfast. If there’s aught untoward, Professor Sprout will know of it. Off with ye now, or I’ll stick ye to a chair in the hall again.” she gave Haley a pointed look, and then popped off before she could retort. Haley huffed at the reminder, and reluctantly all three of them went to the Great Hall for breakfast. Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey were absent from the staff table, as were Minerva and Dumbledor. Haley bit her lip, but recalling Saoirsí’s threat, applied herself to breakfast with a will. Although the pinched look was gone, and her ribs no longer showed, she still was underweight and prone to getting chills. Finally, just before the end of the meal, a very subdued Hermione came in, looking not at all well. She was very quiet, simply shaking her head as the other three fired questions at her.

“Later..please.” she practically whispered, and when Ron looked like he wanted to make an issue of it, Haley  _ glared _ at him and he subsided, finishing off his last bit of sausage roll.

Herbology was their first lesson today, and they all trooped out to the greenhouses, the ground still covered in dew, and a nip to the air. Haley had her blouse, sweater,  _ and _ a jumper on under her robe, and still she shivered a little. Sprout took them through the lesson as if nothing was wrong, though she gave Haley a reassuring pat on the shoulder as she passed while they identified the cuttings and seed on the trays before them, noting what plants they came from and what properties they held for potions and healing, as well as any hazards in the handling or harvesting of each. As the bell rang at the end of the class, Sprout motioned for Haley and her friends to stay.

“Well, Haley. You showed remarkable intelligence this morning, knocking me up rather than charging off like a bone-headed Gryffindor. Five points. Now, I’m  _ only _ telling you three this so you won’t pester poor Miss Granger all day with questions. There was a stranger in the castle, and she - literally - ran into them. She caught a stunning-spell, but was otherwise unharmed. Whoever it was ran when we arrived. They did escape the castle, but nothing was missing and aside from Miss Granger, nobody was hurt. Minerva’s reporting it to the Ministry as we speak. There’ll likely be some changes, but they’re just precautions. Don’t worry, dearies. We’ve everything in hand.” she smiled at them all. Haley looked thoughtful, Neville looked pale, Ron looked a bit confused, and Hermione just stood mute. Haley saw this, and put a reassuring arm around her friend’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Professor Sprout. We’d better be off, if we want lunch before the next class.” Haley said, the boys echoing her, and she gently steered Hermione out of the greenhouse. She waved the boys on ahead, and paused behind a bit of wall, out of the light blustery autumn wind. She moved in front of Hermione, gently holding her by the shoulders and ducking down until Hermione raised her head to look at Haley.

“Are you really alright?” Haley asked softly, and Hermione nodded. “Scared?” Haley asked, and Hermione worried at her lip with her teeth before nodding again, then looking down at the ground. Haley worried her own lip a bit, then asked “Can I hug you? Will that help?” Hermione stayed still a moment, then nodded. Haley pulled her into a tight hug.

“I knew something was wrong. I can...I can kind of  _ feel _ Hogwarts, y’know? The Castle isn’t exactly  _ alive _ , but with hundreds of years of magic soaking, well. I don’t really understand it. But I guess I can feel when people are in trouble? Look...my point is, I’m going to protect you, okay? I’ll make sure you’re safe, no matter what. We’re friends, right? Isn’t that what friends do? Look out for each other?” Haley kept her tone soft, but her words held conviction. She still wasn’t all that sure what friends did herself, but dammit if she didn’t feel like bundling Hermione in a blanket and ripping the throat out of anyone that tried to hurt her.  _ That’s...probably not normal? But  _ nobody _ is going to feel like I did, before I came here if I can help it. And...maybe we should look at some self defense lessons. Physical self defense. I know that learning those jinxes from Remus helped me feel safer. I’ll ask Sprout about it later. Or maybe Tonks.  _ Hermione squirmed a bit in her arms, and Haley let go and backed off, tilting her head a little.

“Ready for lunch?” she asked, and Hermione took a deep breath, raised her head and nodded. She gave a hesitant smile, that grew when Haley returned it and grabbed her hand. Haley led the way back into the Castle, putting her idea to Hermione.

“Y’know, maybe we should both learn how to protect ourselves better. Not just with a wand, but physically. The boys too. I bet not a lot of Magifolk know physical self defense. It could be a huge advantage.” she said it as if she’d just thought of it, and Hermione gave one of her thoughtful nods.

“That’s not a bad idea. I know Mum was getting ready to enroll me in a gym near our house, before my Hogwarts letter came. Maybe I can ask her? Oh, but...you stay here over the holidays, don’t you?” Hermione frowned, and Haley could practically see the gears whirring away in the darker girl’s head.

“Well, yeah, but maybe we can ask around here. I bet Tonks would have some ideas, she seems like the type. Sprout may even know of a place or two. But it can wait, first, let’s get something hot. I’m  _ freezing _ .” she pulled a chuckling Hermione into the Great hall, sliding into her seat and grabbing a mug of hot tea first off, taking swigs of it between her potions. They laid their idea out to the boys, and they both were enthusiastic.

“Cor, it’d be dead useful when the twins have a go at me…” Ron said in wonder, and Neville just gave a shy, quiet smile.

“A-a-and those tw-twats in sly-sly-Slytherin’d never see it coming.” he stammered out, the stutter growing more pronounced as he got excited. Haley smiled to herself, digging into the meal with a will, as visions of her and her friends plowing through the faceless hoards of “bag guys” that all eleven-year-olds summon from their imagination, using fists and feet just as readily as wands. It was a comforting fantasy, one that made her feel strong, and in Haley’s mind,  _ strong _ meant  _ safe _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That took longer than expected. This chapter fought me a lot, I started out going one direction, and it wanted to go another entirely.
> 
> At first I was going to introduce another OC as a sort of mentor-type to Haley, someone who could teach her in a healthy way how to kick ass. After a few hundred words of that, I found myself rolling my eyes at my own writing. So I had to scrap that and start over.
> 
> Then I started rushing things again, wanting to get poor Neville's issues figured out, and I once again reminded myself that _they are eleven_ and it is _literally their second day of school_. So that had to be rewritten.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the pacing so far. I'm trying to not drag on, and there will be time jumps later as things get into more of a routine. There's just a lot of plot threads to follow here, and I want to not rush and drop some of them.
> 
> Thank you all again for reading. See you next time.
> 
> Gwyn


	12. Black Thoughts, Black Belts, and The Noble and Ancient House of Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We check in with Albus, the kids start Defense lessons of both types, and Sirius finally gets out of bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We haven’t seen Albus for a while. Mostly because I utterly hate writing him. I really want to just have the adults neutralize and replace him, but that would mean yet another OC, and I’m really trying to only use those when necessary. Maybe in the next story, after I’ve had time for the adults to unravel enough of his influence. This really is turning into an AU rather than just Cannon Divergent. Might update tags. Anyway, on to what y’all are really here for.

Albus Dumbledor prowled his office, in a state very few ever saw. At least, very few that he let live afterwards. His face was set in a rictus snarl and he was growling and grumbling under his breath. Every so often he would shoot a poisonous glare at the morning paper on his desk, firing off a jinx or hex that bounded around the shielding he’d set up over his instruments. Who the  _ hell _ tipped off the DMLE?  _ HOW _ had they found Peter, and why in the name of  _ Merlin’s saggy left testicle _ had the stupid rat been hiding with the  _ Weasleys _ of all people?! It had taken him  _ years _ to subvert the little toerag, subtly enough so that he still maintained his slavish devotion to Voldemort, but danced to Albus’ tune. The stupid git was supposed to hide with a  _ nondescript _ wizarding family! Not one of the most famous (or infamous) members of the  _ bloody Order of the Phoenix! _

Albus supposed he had some small part of blame there. He’d let Arthur grow too powerful. At first it looked useful, a series of backdoor connections and back-room favors that could be brought to bear in Albus’ favor. Arthur was more canny than he expected, however, and made of much sterner stuff than his wife. Sending Gideon and Fabian into that suicide mission had taken care of her. Shocked her clean into burying her head in the sand and pretending all was well, putting on the face of a respectable if overburdened matriarch set on repopulating the House of Weasley herself.

Apparently Arthur had learned all the wrong (for Albus’ purposes) lessons from his dissolute father, who pissed away the family wealth. Instead of becoming bitter, Arthur had gone about gaining an entirely different sort of influence to provide for his eventual family, turning his endless fascination with all things  _ muggle _ into a rather successful career. Albus should have arranged a scandal. Arthur was too firmly entrenched now, nobody would believe it. But there was another angle there...Molly. It was something of an open secret that she was heavy-handed with her children. William had already chosen to work abroad. He knew Charles was on an apprenticeship to Gringotts. Albus smiles to himself, his furious prowling stilled as the beginnings of a new plan formed. He would have to move carefully, subtly, he could never be connected to this, but he had his new leverage at last.

By this time next week, there would be a new sensational headline, about how Molly Weasley abused her children, behind the back of her poor, hardworking husband.

***

Haley sighed in relief and rotated her arm at the shoulder, stretching it out. Thanks to healing magic and potions, in only a few days the dislocated joint was healed enough that the bandages could be removed. She moved into some other stretches, and looked at Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch, who were frowning in unison at Hermione, Ron and Neville.

“So, we thought it’d be smart to learn more about protecting ourselves. Especially if Haley plans to come visit me over break at my parents’. Muggle London is mostly safe, but still, two pre-teen girls?” Hermione was laser focused, having poured over any information she could get her hands on. It turned out that there  _ was _ a long history of Magifolk learning physical as well as magical defense, but it had fallen out of favor recently, coinciding with Dumbledor’s rise. Haley had her own thoughts about that, but kept them to herself, for now.

“Well, I’m not sure if we can-” Professor Sprout started, until Madam Hooch cut her off.

“It’s not a bad idea, Pomona. Miss Granger is correct, and on top of that, we’ve been shown that people  _ can _ get past the wards. Frankly, we’ve been altogether too blasé about teaching our students this sort of thing. What if they lose their wand? What if they don’t get time to draw it, like Miss Granger? What if they’re up against a more experienced Magi? My mum, may she be at peace, sure had a mean right hook. One, I might add, she passed on to me.” the flying instructor crossed her arms and looked at the quartet before her. “All right, children, you’ve talked your way into it. I only hope you don’t regret it. We’ll start with you four. That’s all I have time for, without official backing. Meet me on the Quidditch Pitch an hour before breakfast. Wear clothes you’re comfortable in. Miss Potter, Miss Granger, be sure to show up a bit early and we’ll see if we can’t fit you out in trousers from the loaner quidditch supplies. I’ll make sure you can do your best in a skirt if you want, when the time is right, but to start, this’ll be best.”

Hermione gave a little squeal of glee, Neville and Ron high-fived, and Haley just smiled with a fierce gleam in her eye. Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout caught that, and gave each other a significant look. The first week of term, and the four of them were already that close. Miss Potter, it seemed, had a natural talent for bringing people together. That bore watching.

That afternoon was the class Haley had been looking forward to the most: Defense with Remus.  _ Professor Lupin! _ She corrected herself mentally. She was rapidly discovering that being casually acquainted with one’s teachers added some complicated things to one’s life. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, however.

“Good Morning, Students.” Remus greeted as she stepped out of his office at the back of the classroom. The mixed class of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors chorused it back, and the lesson began. Remus led them through some basic identification of various creatures that were harmful to humans, and halfway through the lesson one of the Gryffindors - an irish boy named Seamus Finnegan - raised his hand.

“Professor, ye been right careful about not calling these nasties  _ Dark _ . And, well, this is Defense against the  _ Dark _ Arts, right? What’s on?”

Remus gave one of his patient, kind smiles, the kind that says he expected that question, and was glad it was asked. He reinforced this in his answer.

“A good question, Mister Finnegan. Anyone care to venture a guess?” The class all looked back and forth at each other, and even Hermione worried her bottom lip with her teeth a little, her gaze that sort of distant that means she’s running her mind over all the passages of text she’d memorized so far, searching for an answer.

Haley was similarly stumped, but knew Remus enough to know that the question was mostly rhetorical, and was asked to get them thinking about the topic.

“Leaving aside the moral complexities in even determining what makes something “Dark” - the Stunning Spell, after all, can fit the Ministry’s rather broad definition - let’s examine the circumstances in which, say, redcaps are most likely to attack. A Redcap  _ lives _ in reeds and kelp, that is it’s home. It only ‘attacks’ someone swimming through it. Now, if someone were to come charging through your living room unannounced and mostly naked, what would you do?” the class giggled, but the point was made. “Many creatures are labeled “Dark” simply for not bowing to Mankind’s arrogance, for not cowering in fear as we blunder rudely through their natural habitats. Some truly are. Vampires, Inferi, Boggarts, Dementors. These things all go  _ hunting _ for the vulnerable, and it is those which require vigilance, care, and a willingness to not only protect yourself, but deal finally with a threat to keep it from harming others. That is the core of Defense, assessing when something is a threat, and the appropriate response. If you blunder through the Forbidden Forest, tossing Blasting Hexes at anything that moves oddly, you will almost certainly invite more trouble than if you’d simply been aware of your surroundings and known the true signs of being in danger. Though I do hope none of you are ever  _ in _ the Forest. It’s Forbidden for a reason.”

Just as the lecture finished, the bell signalling the end of the lesson tolled, and the entire class jumped due to how entranced they’d been by Lupin’s soft but engaging voice. Haley was not immune to that effect, despite having known Professor Lupin slightly longer than her classmates. She gathered her notes and supplies and left the class, chattering away with her friends and classmates, and Remus smiled to see her fitting in so well.

***

Deep in the vaults of Gringotts, things were going less well for one Sirius Orion Black III. With a sound that was half yelp of pain and half scream of frustration, the former Auror, ex-prisoner of Azkaban and Godfather to one  _ Haley _ James Potter crashed to his knees for what felt like the seven hundredth time that day.

“On your feet, warrior!” Healer Reig snapped, crossing her arms. “Or are you giving up for today?” Sirius snarled and forced himself back to his feet, using the nearby wall to haul himself up. The Goblins were not gentle, were not solicitous and soft-voiced. Sirius preferred it that way. His mind-healer said it was some deep-seated belief that he  _ deserved _ punishment, even though he’d done nothing wrong and  _ knew _ that. Stupid quack. No, Sirius just needed to get back in shape as  _ fast _ as possible so he could go see his Pup, and the Goblins were merciless and efficient.

“Not getting rid of me that easily, Healer.” he sneered back, and got a nod from Reig. High praise. He took a deep breath and pushed himself away from the wall, being careful with his steps. He’d spent so long as the black Newfoundland that he’d forgotten how human legs worked, and he’d spent so long unmoving that the muscles had all atrophied. The worst of that was dealt with via potion and enchantment, but that could only go so far. If he wanted to get out of these damn caves before bloody Christmas, he was going to have to work for it.

So he worked. He was making progress, every day he was a little stronger, a little closer to the shape he was in during the War.

He was by no means convinced that bastard Voldemort was gone for good. Not even a Final Charm like Lily had allegedly cast could do  _ that _ . And having fought the bastard for three years and seeing how he and his followers escaped again and again...no. Sirius wouldn’t believe it until he’d pissed on the body himself. So, he needed to be back in top shape to be ready for when he returned.

He also needed to be  _ mostly _ sane and in control, so he didn’t throttle that utter fucking  _ bastard _ Dumbledor. Minerva had told him that Harry had been left with  _ Petunia fucking Dursley _ and that useless, absuive, borderline alcoholic, useless sack of shit husband of hers. Despite the Weasleys - blood relations, though distant - being there and  _ ready _ to take Harry in. Despite James and Lily’s  _ explicit bloody instructions _ in their will that their child not be let within a thousand meters of Lily’s sister.

It got worse when Sirius learned how Haley had been treated.

He didn’t even notice that he was walking past the railings until his nose met rough stone, and he yelped and fell  _ again _ , though this time on his ass, to give his knees a break. He swore a blue streak and rubbed the abused cartilidge, feeling carefully for any breaks. There were none, thankfully. He looked up a Reig, as he felt his legs start to tremble uncontrollably from exhaustion.

“Well. I did it. Apparently I just have to be exceptionally pissed off to walk. I think that’s enough for one day, however. I don’t think my legs will hold up any more.”

Reig gave a delighted sneer, gurgling in Goblinic laughter as she called for a wheeled chair to convey Sirius back to his quarters. He had a guest waiting.

“Moony!” he yelped, surprised to see Remus Lupin waiting in his room for him. At first he was thrilled, even after his release he hadn’t had time to so much as write a letter to the other sole surviving Marauder. His excitement fades, however, when he sees the expression on Remus’ face. He knew that look, of old. Sirius gave a sigh, flicking his wand to stop the chair. It was enchanted to move on it’s own when he was sitting in it, he would never  _ dare _ ask a Goblin to push him around. It would have been an insult, as if he was placing them in a servant’s position. As far as he could tell, the Goblins were pleased he never asked, and set the enchantments himself as soon as they brought the chair.  _ Probably look at it as a mark of independence, a warrior spirit thing. I just didn’t want Ragnok taking my giblets off! _ Sirius shook his head to clear his thoughts and refocus on the moment.

“Sirius, Padfoot, I-” Remus started, and Sirius held up a hand to forestall the flood of guilt and self-recrimination that was about to start spewing from his friend’s mouth.

“Remus. Stop. I don’t blame you for any of it, you were manipulated by that spangled bastard just like the rest of us in the Order. He never told anyone else that Peter held the Fidelius, practically setting me up to take the fall one way or another when it failed. I refuse to believe that the most accomplished Legilimens this side of Severus Snape was unaware that Peter had turned. Especially when that rat-bastard couldn’t Occlude for a damn. Had one hell of a Blasting Hex though.” the joke fell flat, he could tell, but dammit he wasn’t going to indulge in melancholy any longer. He’d had his fill of it in Azkaban!

“What, but I didn’t, I just  _ believed _ blindly, I never questioned-”

“But you do now, right?”

“Well, yes, but it shouldn’t have-”

“That’s enough, Remus!” Sirius snapped and thumped his palm on the arm of his chair for emphasis. “Enough. I’ve had my fill of guilt and sorrow and depression and the rest.  _ I have my bloody life back! _ I will not waste another moment of it dwelling on how bad things  _ were _ . Especially not when I have a Pup to protect! And on that note, how is my God-daughter?”

Remus looked taken aback, and Sirius smiled.

“When the hell did you get so wise, Pads?” Remus asked, shaking his head.

“I’m a  _ Black _ , Moony. I may have been an idiot in my teenaged years, but who isn’t? I paid attention to the bits of ‘family education’ that weren’t pure-blood horseshit. Now. Haley. I got the bare-bones from Minerva, but I want full details. Is she settling in? Does she have friends? Is she following in our footsteps?”

Remus shook his head, gave a tired smile, and began giving Sirius the details he wanted. He explained how Haley had taken to the Castle, and the Castle to Haley. How she’d settled into a friend group almost instantly, the various adventures and troubles the girl had already found.

“She’s very similar to Prongs in one way. She absolutely  _ attracts _ trouble! Filius told me how he had to rescue her from a Devil’s Snare her first afternoon at Hogwarts! Then there was the flying incident.”

“Wait, hold on. A  _ Devil’s Snare?! _ As in, the exceptionally murderous plant that is a bloody Class 1 Untradeable and is highly illegal to even  _ own? _ What the hell was Pomona doing with one of those in a student greenhouse?! And what Flying Incident?! Dammit, Moony, who the hell is trying to get our Pup  _ killed _ ?!” Sirius interrupted, and once again Remus looked surprised.

“Well, I hardly think that it’s  _ that _ bad, Dumble-” Remus interrupted himself that time.

“Merlin’s saggy left testicle.” Sirius said, sounding tired, and reached for a small bell-pull. A few moments later, a Goblin stuck their head into the room.

“Blatvak, please ask a Healer to bring us an inheritance test when someone has the time. I think my friend here is dealing with some unwanted influences.” Blatvak nodded, sneered, and pattered down the hall.

“Sirius, really, I’m  _ fine _ ! There’s no need for that.” Remus tried to protest, but Sirius simply shook his head and folded his hands.

“You’re lucky it’s the weekend, Moony. I’m not letting you anywhere near my Pup until I’m certain. I have my suspicions about Albus, and I’ve also inherited the Black paranoia. Get comfortable, old friend. Tell me about the older students this year. Has Dorea’s daughter become the terror she promised to be when she was younger?” Remus didn’t miss the fact that Sirius’ wand was in his hand now. Pointed idly off to the side, but held so it could be snapped forward if needed. Remus sighed, folded his arms and sat back.

“I think you’re being ridiculous, but all right. Tonks is indeed an unholy Terror, and she’d fallen in with the Elder Weasleys. Our closest successors are actually the Twins, Fred and George, but they’re kinder than we were. Which is no bad thing. They found the Map.” Remus nodded at Sirius’ expression, and pulled the Marauders’ Map from his pocket. “I’ll give it back to them, after some modification. With the two of us, we should be able to unlock it. It’s dangerous the way it is now.”

Sirius nodded, and listened to Remus recite some of the more entertaining legends already surrounding the Weasley Twins - just starting their third year. He also read a little between the lines, and decided he would approach them around the same time he approached Haley. He also decided to have a word with Arthur when he was cleared to return to work. He didn’t know if the man knew how Molly was acting, but he’d put even money on not. He also made a mental note to approach Bill, Charlie and Tonks - who was apparently apprenticed to Alastor Effing Moody, of all people! - and see how much if anything they’d figured out.

Bugger. He was going to have to get involved in Politics. He  _ hated _ Politics. But he was, as he’d reminded Moony, a Black. More than that, he was apparently the Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient  _ House _ of Black. Kreacher was going to lose what was left of his mind.

_ Note to self...find out if Elves have Therapists, because Kreacher will need one. _

A few hours later, Reig herself arrived with the testing parchment and a silver dagger. Sirius raised his brows at that, and she scowled at him and waved him off, holding the dagger out to Remus.

“A few drops is plenty, if you please.” she grated out, and Remus nicked his finger, letting the required number of drops hit the parchment, before wandlessly healing the cut. Reig muttered to herself as lines and text began appearing on the parchment, then made a noise in the back of her throat. “Full cleanse, Heir Lupin. Then we can confirm you as Lord. We’ll forward all paperwork to our Powys branch, and can arrange a Recall and transfer of the Family Vault to here, if you prefer.” she handed Remus the papers, and he looked them over curiously, before setting his lips in a thin line. His eyes took on a golden color, and his hair actually rose a little.

“Can we perform the cleanse now?” he asked, his voice softer, but clipped and precise. Sirius looked at him warily. It wasn’t often that Remus got  _ that _ angry. As response, Remus handed him the parchment.

Inheritance Report: Remus Lupin

Inherited Vaults:

1512 Ancient House of Lupin (Galleons, writings, artifacts)

Enchantments on Magical Core:

Trust, loyalty, blind faith: Albus Dumbledore, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts, Order of the Pheonix (partially broken by Lycanthropy)

Distrust, hatred: Slytherin House, Malfoy Family, (see list of suspected death eaters).

Distrust: Sirius Black

Personality changes: depression, lack of Self-worth, seek danger with no regard for safety, protect others with no regard for self preservation, self-hatred. (partially broken due to Lycanthropy)

Drain: Magical Core (to Albus Dumbledore, applied Oct. 1981)

  
  


Blocks:

Animagus Form: 100% (Lycanthropy)

Magical Core: 45% (Partially Broken by Lycanthropy)

Soul Bond: Sirius Black (80%, recommend immediate cleanse to prevent damage to Core)

All Enchantments and all Blocks except Animagus performed by Albus Dumbledore.

REPORT ENDS

Sirius was unsurprised by the Soul Bond. He’d long known that Remus was his chosen mate, but as he’d never expressed interest, Sirius had resigned himself to the bachelor’s life and contented himself with close friendship.  _ It still might not result in anything. An 80% block, for this long? It might not have cemented. I won’t push. He deserves the right to his own choice. _ Sirius knew he’d damn well want it, if the choice were presented to him. He had no such block, and that was part of why he was suspicious. It was looking more and more that Albus had  _ planned _ for him to go to Azkaban.

_ Your report was worse. Damn Dementors. And Damn Albus while I’m at it! Yes, let’s enchant a young man with depression, recklessness, and rage issues, then toss him into a place where the guards  _ feed on bloody despair _! I’m certain he meant for me to die in there. _

Sirius shook himself out of his ruminations again, then wheeled his chair over to the small table and began drafting some letters to go out after the morning Daily Prophet, which would have a page-one splash of his release and exoneration.

***

Haley caught sight of the headline the next morning, and nearly spat out her potions. Only Saoirsí’s certain wrath kept her from it.

**_SIRIUS BLACK...INNOCENT?!_ **

_ Dear Readers, you read it here first. Sirius Orion Black III, long thought to have been one of the worst traitors in the Blood War, has just been released from Azkaban Prison with a full exoneration. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement Head, Amelia Bones, issued a statement to the Daily Prophet via early-morning Owl. _

_ “The DMLE was presented with new evidence, in the form of one Peter Pettigrew, alive and whole except for the previously found finger from his right hand. Mr. Pettigrew was masquerading as a pet to the Weasley family, due to being an Unregistered Animagus. Mr. Pettigrew was questioned under Veritaserum, and his memories were reviewed via Courtroom Pensieve, revealing that he was the one who cast the Blasting Hex that resulted in 13 Muggle deaths on 1st November, 1981. Lord Black has been released and his record updated to show his wrongful arrest and imprisonment. “ _

_ Interestingly, Madame Bones makes no mention of a previous Trial or Sentencing. When asked for comment, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot Albus Dumbledor declined to respond. Watch this space, readers, for further news on Dumbledor’s doings. _

_ Lord Black was once an accomplished Auror with an excellent Wartime record against You-Know-Who’s Death Eater cult. Lord Black also declined comment when an Owl was sent asking if he intended to return to his career. _

Haley looked up from the newspaper, and noted Ron looked ill. She reached across the table and patted him on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Ron. I know it’s still a shock to find out Scabbers was Pettigrew, I’d be right creeped out by-” she stopped as Ron shook his head, and showed Haley the second headline, beneath the fold of the paper.

**_TROUBLE IN THE BURROW! WEASLEY MATRON ABUSING HER CHILDREN?! OVERWORKED FATHER KNEW NOTHING!_ **

The paper in Haley’s hands ignited, and her vision turned red. She barely noticed when three different  _ Aguamenti _ streams hit her.

_ How DARE they?! _


End file.
